


True Mate Saga: Book One

by IAMiniquity



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Romance, Sexual Tension, Vampire Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAMiniquity/pseuds/IAMiniquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I've waited a thousand years for a flighty absolute mess of a human,' He growled. Demetri thanks the gods he's a tracker. Unfortunately for his mate, the 21 year old free-spirited hot mess Delphia Payne, she can't get away from him. He's caught her and he's never letting her go. First in a series. Mildly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: IAMIniquity does not own Twilight or anything that belongs to Steph Meyer. She literally owns an ugly sun spotted Toyota, a laptop, a kindle, and some clothes she got thrift shopping because she isn’t about that spending fifty dollars on a t-shirt life. So don’t sue her because she’s just a broke 24-year-old college student with too much debt already.   
Yo ho ho ho a ramen life for me!

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri  
Prologue

A hooded, cloaked figure strode boldly down the dimly lit streets of Volterra. The sound of the figure’s footsteps were non-existent but the scent expelled from it in droves, alerting the cities… nightlife to its ethereal feminine presence. She could feel her own anxiety climbing with every step closer to the castle she took. Her fear gripping nearly paralyzing she was afraid that her gift would not be accepted, as it wasn’t useful for the kings’ benefit or for battle. Then again, there was always the option that her ability could be used to the benefit of the kings. Cruel as it was, her gift had the flexibility to be utilized in that way. Not that she wished it so.

Still, the woman continued to glide across the stone streets with only one destination in mind, against her coven’s better judgment. Mentally she accosted herself for her boldness. Was it alright to just appear in Volterra? She didn’t know if it were against the law, perhaps an appointment would have been necessary? How does one make an appointment with the Vampire Kings? Call 1 800 Volturi and schedule your appointment today!

Her frantic mental arguing screeched to a halt when she felt them. Two vampires, almost materializing beside her. 

“What do we have here, Felix?” One chimed, voice a low but elegant baritone, almost playfully speaking to the other. 

The woman glanced at the two through the stitching of her cloak to find that they were both wearing much thicker hoods than she. She realized they could easily see her face, and she had no luck in seeing theirs. Had she a heart, it would be thundering loudly in her chest in this moment. Regardless of her intentions for tonight, meeting Volturi guard members was an intimidating experience. Fear was a natural and undoubtedly expected reaction. 

“A nomad, perhaps?” The one called Felix responded, his voice deep and resonating, sending a shiver of fear down her spine, she did her best to conceal it, squashing her anxiety as best as she could. Which wasn’t well, mind you. 

“Your presence begs the question, are you visiting or simply passing through?” The first vampire spoke once again, directing his questions at the woman.

The woman, taking a deep unnecessary breath to calm her nerves so they would not show in her speech, answered quickly giving the barest of details, “I am not a nomad, but I have left my coven to seek audience with the Volturi.”

The gruff response from the one called Felix was rather chilling in the tone he’d used to deliver it, “Then you shall not be kept waiting.”

They walked quietly at a human pace, turning down a main road and walking passed a fountain. Even in the night no detail of the magnificent stone structure was lost on the vampires. The light of the moon reflected delicately on the surface of the water, casting beautiful moonlight glow across the fountains surface. Every fine line, every speck of dirt, and even the newly forming algae around the ring of the basin was evident to the three, but only the woman was engrossed by its beauty.

“Impressive, no?” The one called Felix asked her as he held a door to the building on the far left of the statue. He’d taken notice to the woman’s enthralled expression as her eyes followed the piece of historical artwork whilst they walked forward.

She simply nodded, hoping to squash his interest before he was to ask too many questions. She hoped to only answer to the Volturi, if it were possible. She flashed him a small, respectful smile as she passed through the open door behind the nameless vampire, feeling rather than hearing the door shut behind her and Felix following closely. Quickly they came to a hole in the ground and the vampire before her jumped casually, the sound of his graceful landing evident only a second following his departure. 

“Demetri will catch you, if he is needed.” Felix assured, his tone teasing.

The woman scoffed, and jumped down into the hole. There was no light, but she could easily see the ground and the one called Demetri, whom had now dropped his hood. His face held a certain neutral expression, causing his high cheekbones and defined jawline to look naturally gaunt. His crimson eyes were in a deep setting, adding easily to his dark and mysterious appearance. 

As she fell, she had quickly become sidetracked in her careful contemplation of the vampire below her and she was just milliseconds from hitting the floor ungracefully when his arms snapped out to catch her. His hand brushed a small exposed area of her midsection and she gasped audibly, suddenly swaying where he had placed her on her feet as her gift came to the forefront. A blast of information and images surged within her mind’s eye. At the end, a face, a name, and a location were the only things she was left. The memories she had been assaulted with faded away as she was no longer able to retain the information.

But the face, the name, and the location would remain.

Such had been the case since before she could remember.

Demetri looked at the woman questioningly, but she did not speak. He grew suspicious but, considering her mission to speak with the Volturi, knew it was not his place to question what Aro would soon see. The guard was on a need-to-know basis, and Demetri knew what was and was not acceptable in the eyes of his masters.

Felix landed a few seconds later and they resumed their trek to the throne room, ignoring what had just transpired. As they walked the woman withdrew into herself, attempting to regain some of the flashes that had overtaken her. It wasn’t often she had the chance to exercise her gift on vampires, which was why it had been difficult for her to hone her skills. She knew she should probably pay closer attention to the halls she was being led through, but her gift was more important at the moment, as it was the one thing that she could use to help others of her kind. 

Her thoughts were pulled to a stop when her body nearly collided with Demetri’s in front of her. She halted in her steps a mere inch away from his ridged back and attempted to keep her eyes focused ahead of her, hoping they hadn’t seen her near accident.

What kind of vampire am I, for Christ sakes? She scolded herself.

Demetri and Felix quickly made to stand in front of her, now both facing her they were sure to flash her a secretive smile that told her they hadn’t missed her near run in, though they didn’t say anything about it. 

“Please wait here while we announce you, may we have your name?” 

“Aurora of the Empire Coven.” Demetri nodded before he and Felix both disappeared through the immaculate door that stood imposingly before her.

When she was alone she tried in vain to calm her nerves. This was it. Her coven had warned her not to come but she refused to listen. She would not allow for her talent to be wasted when it would be so detrimental to many of her kind. Demetri- he would surely suffer unknowingly if she hadn’t met him today. She would soon tell him what she had seen, regardless of if she were proven useful to the Volturi or not. He deserved to know.

She was not left waiting for long, a new Vampire, very small in stature with blond hair pulled tightly into a bun and a vacant expression pulled open the doors, staring the woman down. The girl was almost child-like in appearance. She had clearly been very young when turned. A pang of sorrow swelled Aurora’s undead chest. Although, if it weren’t for the girls’ schooled vacant look, Aurora would think that this young looking vampire was giving her the evil eye.

“Aro will see you now.” Her voice, like bells, chimed through the hollow entrance hall causing an almost shiver to once again trail down the woman’s spine. 

This was it, there was no turning back. Aurora quickly stepped into the room and, although it was expansive with elegant architecture, it was the three thrones and their occupants that drew her attention. She cared none for the vampires surrounding the room, the ones that more often than not were the ones to rip offending vampires to shreds and burn them. She cared little for the giant letter V that was sculpted meticulously into the floor. 

What drew her attention were the Vampire Kings themselves. 

She’d only heard of them. Her coven stayed out of trouble and so she had, in her nearly fifty-year immortal life, never had a run in with the authority of the vampire world. Seeing them face to face was quiet the experience. From their sophisticated, unworldly, faces to their clothes that cost more than most people’s homes they practically dripped royalty and screamed power. She briefly entertained the idea that they must have been princes as humans, or at least noblemen of a sort, and wondered just how old they actually were.

This time, Aurora was not caught up in her thoughts as she witnessed the raven haired vampire King, Aro, raise from his chair and clamp his hands together underneath his chin. He smiled down at her and it sent a jolt of instinct that screamed DANGER as he descended his throne with such grace that it would have a human fascinated, a vampire enraptured. 

Aurora bowed slightly as he reached her, even though it was against every feministic urge she had ever had to do so, out of respect for the Vampire King. His small chuckle briefly pierced the silence in the room and she raised up, removing her hood for the first time and allowing a cascade of blonde waves flow from the now fallen cloth. “Aurora of the Empire coven, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Aro held out his hand to her, and she placed hers in his.

Her maker had warned her of Lord Aro’s gift, but she had expected to feel the invasion of her mental privacy beyond the touch of his hand. She was actually quite surprised to find that she felt nothing. No tingling sensation or alarm, just the feeling of his hand in hers. 

It was rather bizarre, to think that every thought and experience that had ever entered her mind was flowing freely into his. But just as the moment passed a new sense was immerging, the same as she’d had when Demetri had accidently brushed her skin with his. Aurora’s mind erupted with erratic images of a woman with dark hair. Her name was Sulpicia, and she was somewhere within this castle.

“Affascinate!” He exclaimed, retracting his hand from Aurora’s and offering a dashing smile, “For one of our kind to hold the information of our eternal happiness at the brush of a finger! How wonderful it must be.”

If she could blush, Aurora felt that she would be doing so now. She was humbled by Aro’s reaction to her gift. “Please forgive my intrusion, I came in hopes that my gift may be of better use here than it would be lazing about my home.”

Aro’s hands once again met underneath his chin as he answered. Aurora could almost see the gears turning in his head, “Of course, dear Aurora, of course!”

Just as the words had left Aro’s mouth another voice erupted across the distinguished room. This one was far darker and demanding than Aro’s light and feathery tones. It gave an impression of contempt and anger. Aurora figured that this voice, coming from the blond King, must belong to Lord Caius.

“We tire of your prattling, Aro, do enlighten the rest of us to which you have seen.” 

Something akin to anger quickly flashed through Aro’s eyes, Aurora had only briefly glimpsed it before it was gone once again, his friendly demeanor seeping through once more as he looked towards the other vampires in the room.

“Aurora, progeny of Mikal of the Empire coven in the northeastern United States, has the ability to see the true mate of any being she happens to have physical contact with. Human and Vampire alike.” Aro announced, a gleeful smile upon his face. 

All of the sudden it was as if someone had opened the flood gate on whispers in the room. Though the guard members were speaking among themselves their comments and their conversations could easily be heard by every vampire in the room. Some comments were flattering, others were not. Particularly coming from the child-like blonde vampire in the corner to an equally child-like brunet vampire beside her. 

“Silence, please, my friends. Do you not see it? Dear Aurora, with one touch, can tell us if our mates have yet to live, have passed on, or are currently alive and waiting for us. What could be more prudent to our kind than finding our true mate? The likes of which few of our kind have ever found.”

Aurora was instantly filled with a sense of dread. She couldn’t place it, every word that came from Aro’s mouth seemed like it was innocent. He sounded as though he truly cared about his people, and he honestly wished to see them mated, sated, and happy. However, something was wrong. There was some sort of sinister purpose for his instant excitement and acceptance of her gift. 

She was kept from her musings when the blond king, Lord Caius, spoke almost venomously, directing his question to her. “And what limitations do you have?”

“I cannot recall everything I see,” she began quickly, “if the mate of the one I touch is alive only a name, a location, and a face will remain, and although I believe I see far more than that, this is all that retains when the vision is over. I can feel if the mate has already transcended this life, or if they have yet to live. It is rare that I see a mate currently living. Over the years, I have encountered only four who’s mates were currently alive and they weren’t already mated to them. One was a vampire already, and the other three were human.”

“The humans were then turned; I imagine?” Caius’ voice did not lose its venom as he spoke.

“One was turned soon after I informed the vampire of her mate, as he was already a bit older than comfortable for her. The other is still human and has yet to be approached with our world for she was only eight years old when I saw her, she will be turned after she reaches adulthood.”

“The last one?”

“I have not yet informed the vampire I have witnessed their mate. It happened recently.”

Caius said no more. Instead, he rose from his throne. From the looks on the faces of the guard members in the room this was an action that did not happen often. He glided, much like Aro had, down to the floor and halted in front of Aurora, holding his hand out for her to take. 

Aurora obliged and within seconds of touching Caius’ hand was assaulted with a deep sense of humanity and laughter. There were no memories and no names, just a forlorn sense of time. Decades, in fact. Caius quickly wrenched his hand out of her grasp and Aro held his hand out for her to show him what she had seen. She touched Aro’s hand and he grinned while Caius looked as if he were ready to rip the heads off of every vampire in the room. Impatiently, he spoke up.

“Well?” Caius asked gruffly.

Aurora offered him a gentle smile, “Your true mate has yet to be born, Lord Caius. Another fifty to eighty years from now, I estimate.”

“Ah! She can estimate time of arrival, magnificent!” Aro spoke, while Caius looked almost stunned into silence. 

Suddenly a shrill cry erupted from the right of the throne room as a blonde woman, roughly five foot and five inches came gracefully barreling at Aurora. Not knowing what to do, Aurora attempted to side-step the woman, and only succeeded in making her even more angry. The blonde woman grabbed the back of Aurora’s head and slammed her down against the stone floor. Something told Aurora not to fight back. “Caius is my true mate, you’re a fraud!” she hissed. 

Images swarmed Aurora’s mind as she felt her skin crack underneath the pressure of the woman’s hands. “Your mate is alive, he lives in Russia and goes by the name of Victor!”

Aro’s piercing laughter echoed across the hall. Surprisingly, it was Caius who commanded attention and action, “Athenodora, release Aurora at once.” He thundered.

Athenodora’s face morphed from anger to shame in less than a few seconds, holding her hand out to actually help Aurora from her spot on the floor. Sensing that the woman before her was shocked by the revelation of her true mate, Aurora understood. Though, still, Aurora glared at the blonde woman and stood on her own, ignoring the offered hand. It was a statement; Aurora would not forgive Athenodora for having attacked. Though the cause was justified. 

Caius placed his right hand on the small of Athenodora’s back, “We will look into your mate. For the time being, go back to your room and remain there until called for.”

As Athenodora, head bowed and ashamed, made her way out of the double doors Aro grasped everyone’s attention once again. His hands in their usual spot he took to circling Aurora like a vulture ready to swoop down and kill, or in this case, grasp in his vice like grip. Aurora almost wondered if she had made a mistake in coming here, but already her gift had told Caius his mate was not far from being born, Athenodora that her mate was alive, and she’d deciphered that Demetri’s mate was also alive. 

It was as if fate had made sure she would come to the Volturi, before it was too late for these vampires to meet their mates. 

“Now, Aurora, my brother’s and I will have to discuss whether you belong amongst the Volturi. If it were solely my decision you would begin training to be a member of this coven tonight. I do believe, as I have seen in your thoughts, that there is one other vampire you wish to inform of a living mate.” Aro looked at Aurora pointedly, “You may do so now.”

Aurora, understanding what has been asked of her, turned to view Demetri once again. His eyes widened by a small fraction in surprise. He had simply been listening patiently to the conversations before him. It was never his job to intervene or make statements. If asked directly he would have to admit that the idea of finding his mate would have intrigued him. As Aurora’s bright red eyes met his crimson orbs he almost felt as if his undead heart beat in his chest.

“Demetri, you happened to brush some of my skin when you caught me earlier. In that brief contact I saw your mate. Her name is Delphia Payne; she lives in the city of Detroit in the state of Michigan. Her face looks young, late teenager to early twenties.”

Demetri couldn’t decipher the surge of emotions that nearly overwhelmed him. These all came to a vicious halt when he realized that he wouldn’t be available to visit and meet his mate until he had requested some time off from the Volturi, and that was rare seeing as how he was their number one tracker. Perhaps he could put in a request to Aro in the next few days. If his mate was old enough he would surely court her for a few weeks and then turn her. 

“Ah!” Aro exclaimed excitedly, “I believe you have earned some time to yourself, Demetri. Perhaps two months would suffice as a brief hiatus?”

Demetri’s face lost its expressionless veneer and erupted into a very small, yet oddly satisfying smile as he bowed to his master, not questioning Aro's intentions in the slightest. “Thank you, master.”

Aro smiled down on his tracker and floated elegantly back to his throne, Caius following dutifully. Marcus had sat like a statue throughout the entire exchange, not once had he so much as flinched. The moment Aro was seated, Marcus’ hand stretched across the gap in between their chairs and Aro held out his hand. Marcus’ right index finger brushed his brother’s outstretched palm. There was a brief and unnatural quiet that stilled the room. Not a single vampire took an unnecessary breath or moved an inch. 

“Caius, your vote?” Aro questioned the blond with an eyebrow raised.

Caius, who Aurora was certain would not care for her gift, actually surprised her. “Although her gift has caused an upheaval in my marriage, I have to say that the knowledge of the impeding birth of my true mate has greatly made up for the trouble. I can see the advantage to this vampire joining our ranks. Should she prove useless in the next decade we can reevaluate the situation. For now, I vote that she join the Volturi.”

“It is rare, indeed, that a vampire receives a unanimous vote of confidence from the Volturi to join our coven. Let me be the first to welcome you, Aurora.” Aro stated warmly, eyes glinting mischievously, before acknowledging his guard, “No one is to touch Aurora without first gaining permission from us. We will not have everyone at once learn of their mate, especially if more turn up to be living, currently. It will be an earned privilege.” 

No one questioned Aro’s decision. 

“Felix, Demetri, please escort Aurora to an unused suite.”

As she followed the two who had brought her into the Volturi in the first place, Felix asked Aurora a question that no one had once thought to ask her before, and she was filled with a surge of something that she couldn’t identify. Perhaps it was loneliness, perhaps it was something deeper. Whatever it was, it hurt. 

“Can you see or sense your own mate?” The large vampire asked, drawing the curiosity of Demetri who glanced at the small blonde vampire. 

Aurora smiled sadly, “No, Felix, I can’t. I never have.


	2. Chapter One

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter One

He really was a lovely man

"What the fuck does Della stand for, anyways? Isn't that like an old lady's name?"

A tangled, matted, rat's nest of long, straight, orange-red mane swayed sideways at its wearers instantaneous movement. In slow motion the young woman flicked her half smoked cigarette to the pavement, squashing its lit cherry underneath her scuffed up vans. She glared at the boy who had spoken, eyeliner half smudged down into the bags underneath her eyes and mascara flaked everywhere, giving a rather devil may care look to her ocean blue orbs.

It had been a rough night, but dear Christ was it a good one.

"Listen, J… um, Jeremy was it?" She began, her voice like nails on a chalk board after a long night of tequila and belting music at the top of her lungs in a foolhardy attempt to be louder than the band on stage. Her head was pounding, causing her to become irritable easily. When the boy confirmed his name with a brief nod she continued, "Last night was fun and all, but I really have to be getting home now."

He flashed her a toothy grin, his brown eyes lighting up his face like he had accomplished something brilliant. Della fought the urge to either punch him or laugh in his perfectly sculpted baby face. She couldn't actually remember much of last night passed midnight, when the drinks started getting to be less fruity as the alcohol content soared, urged by the impending last call. Whatever it was that this boy thought he'd accomplished in order to wear that confident smile on his round face, he hadn't.

But hey, a kid can dream.

"Alright, well, let me write down my number so we can meet up next weekend. Maybe we could go up to the Machine Shop in Flint and see whatever they've got going on sometime." He winked. Della wanted to vomit.

"Yeah, maybe. I haven't been there in a few months." It was a lie; she'd been there just three weeks ago with a friend she'd met on the beach at Lake Erie several months prior, during the summer.

She never spoke to the girl again after that concert.

His left hand dug into his pocket and his smile dropped, "Damn, I left my cell inside. Just a sec, I'll write my number down and bring it back out."

The second the boy was in the door Della was gone.

Her life had been this way since as long as she could remember. Leaving baby-faced Jeremy behind to scratch his head and wonder where he'd gone wrong was one of the nicer things she had done in the past twenty-one years of her life. She couldn't justify it; she just didn't make long term commitments, and to her long term meant anything over a couple months. Della hadn't even had a friend for longer than six months in her life.

It wasn't that she was a loner, she was easily probably one of the most extroverted people in existence. She was just, flighty. What's the point in garnishing friendships when you're never in a place for more than a few months? That's not to say that she hadn't tried in her younger years to maintain a companionship of sorts, but before cell phones, it had been difficult, and now she just couldn't be bothered with maintaining friendships. Friends came and went, they flew in like a seagull after some greasy fries and they were gone again by the time the tides rolled out.

All that mattered in this world was family, and she'd lost her family five years ago. Sure, she currently lived with her Gramps in his beat up house just outside of the Detroit City limits, one of the neighborhoods that had yet to completely succumb to the dealers and crackheads. But out of her fragmented family, her Gramps was the only one that even remotely mattered to her anymore. The rest of them were stick in the mud types, slowly sinking and covered in shit, not to mention anal retentive. One was even an in and out of jail drug abuser type. It was a wonder the people weren't on anti-depressants, because being around them surely made Della hanker for a mood stabilizer of some kind.

No, they didn't matter. Her mom, she mattered. Evelyn Payne, died of a kidney infection that her dilapidated immune system couldn't power through. Lupus was a bitch of a disease, and it had stolen Della's mom at a mere thirty-two years old. Della was by her side every step of the way. From her mother's diagnosis in Memphis, to her first real bout of it in Vegas, and all the way until the end when things had gotten so bad that Evelyn decided it would be best to go back home, to Detroit, and stay with her father for her end game.

It was a decision that landed Della where she was now. Stuck in the proverbial black hole that is Detroit, Michigan. Sure, it was rich with a culture and history of its own and she loved it. She was born here after all, before her Mom had bought the travel trailer they'd voyaged the country together. In her ten years on the road with her mother she was able to witness many parts of America that most people her Gramps' age hadn't. She'd been to the mall of America, seen Mt. Rushmore, held her mom's hair back in Vegas while she puked, been to the Grand Canyon, and so much more.

They hadn't stayed anywhere for more than six months, just enough time for Evelyn, Lyn as she liked to be called, to put back enough money so they could travel somewhere else. They stopped whenever they ran out of gas money until they could get some. At times they'd been so broke that every meal they'd acquired had been through a soup kitchen or otherwise homeless shelter. But if a volunteer approached them to offer sympathy it would be brushed off and sorely misplaced. Instead, the concerned volunteer would be subject to stories that would have them almost rolling on the floor with laughter. Lyn and Della were happy, too content with their lives for any sort of pity to be afforded to them.

From four until fourteen that was the life Della knew. When they'd come to Michigan, Della had been forced into a public school. After having to be home-schooled her whole life, she almost didn't realize how you were supposed to act in a classroom setting. It was like a scene out of Mean Girls, when Cady gets up to go to the bathroom without asking and gets told to sit down, practically having to cross your legs to keep from pissing yourself- yeah that had been Della for the first couple of months. It was as if every move she made was scrutinized and wrong. She became bored quickly with the things they taught in class, things that she'd already learned in her years of homeschooling. When her teachers realized she was beyond their subject, the faculty tried to push for her to join AP classes, and her mother thought it was a good idea.

Della did alright in AP, to be honest. She'd exited high school with a 2.7 GPA and the only reason she didn't get a higher score was because she just honestly didn't care. Her mom was dying and Della was busy trying to take care of her and spend every last moment she had by her side. She lost her Mom at sixteen. Right in the middle of her sophomore year. If she could have dropped out she might have, but her Gramps wouldn't have allowed it.

She could remember like it was yesterday, 'If you're going to be living with me you will have a job, and an education!' It was the firmest her Gramps had ever been towards her and she commended him for putting his foot down.

And so that lead to today, feeling trapped in Detroit, being a waitress five nights a week at a local diner, and taking a couple classes at a time at the nearest community college in order to gain some kind of degree. College was at her Gramps' insistence. If he hadn't sold the travel trailer before she'd gotten her license then Della would've been gone at eighteen, back to a familiar lifestyle, one that she missed deeply.

Della sighed from her position behind the wheel of her beat up Oldsmobile when her phone started blasting the theme music to American Horror Story. She picked it up and answered the call, not bothering to see who it was, because there was a one percent chance that it wasn't her Gramps.

"Hello?"

"Delphia, good morning. Are you coming home?" His rough and tough old man voice came loudly through the speaker. With age came hearing loss, and because he could barely hear you he thought you must have a difficult time hearing him, and so his need to shout your ear off intensified with every syllable that pushed through the receiver. It was quite humorous.

He really was a lovely man.

"Yeah I'm on my way now. Had a rough night at the diner and ended up having to stay a little while longer than usual," while it was true that Della worked graveyard at the Diner, she did not work the weekends. Her Gramps didn't know this, and he would never catch on because the man went to bed at 9 pm sharp.

"That's alright, Hun, I was calling to ask if you could run through the pharmacy and pick up my medications?"

Della internally groaned, "I'll do that, sure. Be home in a bit."

"Thanks sweet pea."

As they hung up Della quickly pulled a brush from her overly large tote bag she kept in her backseat for occasions like these. As she drove she raked the bristles through her matted hair and vowed to buy a leave in conditioner that might help with the tangles next time this happens. When she made it to the pharmacy parking lot she took a makeup remover wipe from the back seat bag and washed all that flaked and running mascara and eyeliner from her face. When she was satisfied she quickly threw her ridiculous mane up into a pony tail and left her car.

Usually Della wouldn't care about her appearance but one of her Gramps' best friends was the lead Pharmacist at this particular establishment. If she showed up there looking like a hot mess that had far too much fun the night before, well, it wouldn't be long until her Gramps heard about it and Della didn't want to go there. Thankfully she never dressed up when she went out for the night, and since it was winter no one would question her attire, because winter coats were the best.

Honestly, her Gramps and his friends gossiped almost as bad as the ladies on the church choir.

The bell rang as she opened the wide grocery doors, signaling a customer's entrance to the store. She quickly made her way to the back, smiling at everyone she passed. She'd always done so. It was rare that a scowl graced her features, the only reason she'd glared at the baby-faced Jeremy that morning was for asking about her name. That was a massive no-go for Della.

"Ah, Delphia! Your presence is a much-needed sunshine on this dreary winter morning," The pharmacist, Herman Read, grinned a wide lopsided smile as he saw her.

Della smiled broadly in return, swallowing her laugh at his words as she answered, "Herman, darling, I must apologize! I'm afraid this isn't a social call!"

Mr. Read placed his liver spotted hand on his heart, "My dear Delphia how you wound me terribly, perhaps another time! What might I do for you today, Miss Payne?" He winked.

They'd mock flirted like a late nineteenth century/early twentieth century courtship for years, Delphia because she got a kick out of the old man and Herman because he loved the girls' quick wit. The assistants at the pharmacy thought to two were incredible and that the banter was almost inappropriate, but they couldn't help smiling. It had become a joke between Della and Herman's wife, Sarah, that Della was trying to catch herself a rich man. The words were never spiteful, Sarah knew it was all in play.

If there was ever a couple still in love after fifty years, it was Herman and Sarah.

"Alas, darling Herman, it is my Grandfather!" Della's face turned solemn as she relayed the devastating news, "He's nearly run out of medication, you see, and if it is not replaced soon I worry for his decrepit joints as arthritis sets in!"

Herman's gasp was audible, "Delphia! This will simply not do!"

"That is not even the whole of it, Herman, he's also nearly run the course of his blood pressure and heart medications!" Della brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, "Please, darling Herman, if there's anything you can do for my Grandfather, I beseech you to hurry!"

"My dear, you do not have to ask for I have procured your Grandfather's medicine in the form of capsules! Please, take care to remind him that he is to take all medicines once with every meal to relieve him of the pain that his age demands he feel! I could not stand to see you suffer more."

Della's eyes grew wide and her smile radiant, "Oh- darling Herman, whatever would we do without you?" Her arms flared out in front of her and she drew him into a hug over the counter. When she released him she slipped her debit card through the machine, as the total was already flashing.

"Do not fret, Delphia, for I will always be here to procure medicinal assistance!" He stated, mock bowing and dipping his head so low that his comb over nearly brushed the counter.

"Good day- sweet Herman! I hope to speak to you soon!" Della waved, the grin never leaving her face.

Herman's laughter could be heard until she exited the front door of the store. Once back in her car, pill bag in hand, Delphia was off once more. This time she wasn't far from home. It only took a few minutes and she was pulling in the short driveway and shutting off her car.

Her Gramps' house wasn't all that impressive. It was a brick two story with a nice little porch that had four brick columns holding up the roof. The back there was a quarter acre of property and a fire pit that was dug when Gramps' wife was still alive and a derelict swing set that hadn't been used since Della's mom had been a child. The back garage remained locked securely, hiding a 1969 Ford Shelby, GT500 Mustang in a mint condition with only twenty thousand original miles on it. It was her Gramps' pride and joy, even if it had only been driven a handful of times in the past fifty years. Her grandfather was a Ford retiree, and with a deep sense of loyalty and pride he'd never purchased anything other.

Della unlocked the side door and stepped inside, quick to lock the door behind her and kick her shoes in the general direction of the shoe mat near the dryer. Instantly she was assaulted with the fresh, clean scent of home and something that was very close to the smell of apple pie. She smiled slightly and walked down the hall that was lined with hundreds of pictures, a bitch and a half to dust on cleaning day but the memories each picture held were priceless. Not a single picture was a simple portrait, they were all Kodak moments.

She picked up that trait from the grandmother she'd never met, apparently.

As Della made her way towards the kitchen she could hear her Gramps prattling about. "If that's apple pie I smell you're going to be in trouble with your doctor, young man!" she called just as she turned the corner into the small, cramped kitchen.

Louis Payne had aged rather well. In his seventies now, he still had the look of a fifty-year-old man, although his white hair protests the notion. His wrinkled face wasn't as wrinkled as one would expect, but for the laugh lines that had formed after years of mischief and fun. His brown eyes always gave off an amused hint to his demeanor, which was why Della could hardly ever take him seriously despite the fact that he had tried to be firm with her several times over the years.

"It's sugar-free." Was all he said, giving his granddaughter a wink and a smile as he opened the medicine bag she placed on the counter.

"I bet my ass it's not," She responded indignantly, but smiled back nonetheless.

He laughed as he was putting the pills away, "Don't tell your aunt."

Della scoffed, "I'm not suicidal."

It was a known fact Louis' eldest daughter was a controlling, drug addicted, psychopath. Whenever she wasn't the one in charge of the show she got angry, and when she got angry there was a fair chance that you would be swept up in a whirlwind of flying objects and harsh words. No one was safe, even the little only lady in the grocery store who accidentally bumped carts with aunt Mary would fall prey to her spiteful behavior.

Although she wasn't diagnosed bipolar, everyone knew she was. She'd been one of the main reasons Lyn had taken Della and left town for ten long years. Mary had almost beaten her own sister into an early grave herself at eighteen during a flare of anger. All over who Della's father was, something that Lyn had taken with her to the grave. Not that it mattered to Della, she didn't particularly care, she had lived a full life without a father and if he one day got in contact with her she probably wouldn't spare him a second of thought. Aunt Mary was someone that even Della didn't cross purposefully. It wasn't that Della was afraid of a fight- she simply didn't want to cause more problems for her Gramps, because he was the one who always bailed Mary out of jail.

"Good thing, too. Do you want some brunch?" He questioned, pulling some pans out from their place in the cupboards, "I wasn't up for anything this morning but I think waffles are in order."

Della smiled and got up to retrieve the package of sausages from the fridge. "Alright, old man, waffles and sausages then I'm upstairs finishing my homework before bed."

They laughed and joked while they made breakfast together, it was a typical morning for them and it didn't surprise Della one bit that her Gramps had waited until she got home from 'work' to make breakfast for himself. It was something they'd been doing since the day she'd arrived with her mother at fourteen; the only routine she'd ever truly had. It was why she had been anxious to get away from baby-faced Jeremy that morning. Her Gramps would not eat breakfast without her there to share it with him.

With pancake batter on their faces from 'accidentally' turning the mixer up to the highest setting and syrup dripping from the sides over their overloaded plates they sat speaking jovially about history, something Gramps was entirely enraptured by. Their shared fondness of history was something that had brought them together when Della had first lost her mother. She had felt so alone and detached, until Gramps had sparked her interest when he rambled off about the French and Indian war, which had instantly piqued her interest. For years they spent their morning discussing anything at all that had historical merit. Gramps had been the reason Della had decided to major in History.

Today, the spoke about ancient Italy and the Roman Empire, because the paper she had yet to write for her Ancient Civ class was due Monday. Then Louis decided to bring up Della's future.

"I hope that one day you can find what you're looking for. I have the highest of hopes for you, sweet pea." Gramps smiled at his only granddaughter.

"I want to travel," She confessed, knowing that her Gramps was completely against it but she had to get it out there that this was what she wanted to do, she didn't want to stay in one place stagnating like most people. Complacency was not in her nature.

Gramps' lips twitched up in a small, sad smile, "You're as stubborn as your mother was, you know that? Free-spirited and determined to do what you feel is right for you. You're a nomad by nature, I think," He shook his head with an exasperated expression gracing his features, "You know, I admire the tenacity. I've always been proud of the woman Lyn became during her travels. Not to say she wasn't wonderful before she'd left but she really came into herself during those years the two of you were out gallivanting the country."

"Mom always talked about you and Grams, you know? She loved you, even though we weren't around," Della stated before taking another bite of waffle and grinning at Louis from across the table. "She told me every time she called you asked her to come home and she flat out refused. She really was adamant that we stay gone, but I think she regretted not visiting a couple times a year."

"I sometimes wished Lyn would find a good job, a good man, and settle down with you somewhere to give you both some stability. When you two came back after Lyn had been diagnosed with Lupus I could see how miserable you both were to be stuck here. I know Lyn had far more planned for the two of you. She was thinking about selling the trailer and using the money to move you two to Europe after you graduated. She had it in her head that you two would travel the world together." Gramps smiled almost forlornly as he dipped another bite of his own waffle into the syrup that had coagulated on his plate. "I think that you'll just have to do that for you both. Maybe one day you'll find love- someone that will follow you in your travels. A like-minded man, just be sure he's a good one."

Della, not having it in her heart to scoff at the idea, smiled kindly, "Gramps, men aren't good. They're vultures and parasites, love is just a notion that children believe in. It's an illusion of happiness based on ancient ideals."

Louis laughed, deep and hearty, "I'll tell ya, you are just like Lyn's clone. You may not look much like she did but the way you think, your words, and your actions make you just the spitting image of the woman," He grinned at his granddaughter, "One day, your opinion will change."

"Care to make a wager on that one, Gramps?" Delphia grinned slyly, "Winner buys the loser a drink?"

"You're on, sweat pea. You'll lose, though. Even if it takes another twenty years, you will lose," He winked at her, getting up and gathering some of the dishes.

"That's what you think!" Della exclaimed, grabbing the rest of the dishes and meeting him at the sink.

It was one of the better meals they'd had together in the last few months, and it meant so much to both of them that words could not express the feeling of happiness and elation that had surged through that kitchen in the hour they'd spent.

It was almost fitting, that this meal would be their last together. Once the dishes were done and Della was beginning to make her way up the stairs to her room to work on her essay, Louis Payne had collapsed in a heap on the living room floor, shattering his '# 1 Grandpa' coffee mug as he fought a losing battle in order to breathe.


	3. Chapter Two

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Two

It was a special kind of torture, to know that the most delectable blood one would ever taste would be that of the one you were meant to spend the rest of your immortal life.

It had been less than a month since Aro had granted Demetri permission to take a vacation from his duties when the tracker finally descended from the plane that had taken him from the airport in NYC to Detroit Metro. Whenever a member of the guard left for an extended period of time for personal reasons instead of Volturi business there were always preparations to be made. In this instance, a replacement tracker was commissioned for the time being and Demetri was required to bring the vampire, Tobias, up to the Volturi's standards. When Demetri had left the replacement, Tobias, had looked quite smug with himself.

No doubt the young fool thought he could prove himself and make the position permanent.

The only way the Volturi would replace Demetri would be if they discovered a vampire with a gift that was upgraded from his own. Someone who could track anyone in the world anywhere without having met them, or someone who had met them, first. Since in the past one thousand years no one has had such an elevated form of the tracker gift, Demetri was almost guaranteed his position would be waiting for him when he returned with his mate.

It was mid-evening and the sun had recently descended from the sky when Demetri exited the airport. He was anxious and almost buzzing with nervous energy that wasn't visible as he contemplated, not for the first time, what his mate would be like. He almost felt human with the amount of emotion that had filled him over the past few weeks of his immortal existence. It was reminiscent of how he had felt when he'd been asked to join the Volturi, but over a thousand times better. At times throughout his days the thought of finally coming face to face with the woman he was meant to spend eternity with planted a smile on his usually stoic features. He prayed to whatever deity truly existed that she didn't reject him.

He was to easily reminded of a time long past, when he was married for the better part of a century to a vampire from the Egyptian coven that had been turned after he left. She found her mate during a brief trip to Sweden in the early 1600s and had refused to leave her mates side. The male, although apologetic towards Demetri, was instantly inseparable from Cassiopeia as well. Demetri had seen the mating bond at work, and he had faith in it regardless of how it had operated against him in the past. The probability of one mate rejecting the other was relatively low, but the fact that mates have a choice whether they want to be with each other hadn't escaped Demetri's musings for a moment.

He wondered briefly if he would wish to pursue a relationship with his mate once he'd met her or if he'd be the one to reject the union. It was nearly impossible if one was a vampire, for the vampire would feel the emotions and the pull far stronger than any human would. Every sense would be quickly attuned to their own mate, the mate's needs instantaneously coming before one's own. It was easy to be caught up in the mating bond, and many had succumbed to it. Which, of course, was not a bad thing. Though sometimes it leads to drastic results. Edward and Bella Cullen, for example. Bella wished for a certain human experience before becoming a vampire, Edward had no choice but to oblige her this decision, a month later they have an immortal half-breed and a few months after that the threat of the Volturi lingering on their doorstep.

Demetri's future was littered with the unknown since the day that Aurora had sensed his mate. Of only one thing he was completely certain, the protective instinct that a vampire held for their mate had already formed, and he would be damned if anyone touched or harmed what was meant to be his.

He sincerely hoped that his Delphia didn't have what the humans today called a boyfriend, for that unfortunate male would mysteriously disappear quite soon. Growling at the thought, Demetri flited from his spot in the shadows passed the blinding lights of the Airport and towards the hotel he'd arranged for himself, the Westin.

For centuries Demetri had hoped he would eventually find his mate, as most vampire do. With the ability to live immortally comes an almost overbearing sense of loneliness and melancholy that had hit Demetri harder with every passing decade that he hadn't found her. This incessant need was quenched when he had passed some eight decades with Cassiopeia, but the minute she had found her own mate they had resumed with an almost crippling force. As the human children would say now, he felt as though he would be #forever-alone.

For some time, he'd thought his mate passed from this life as a human, and had never stood a chance of meeting him in all his travels with the Volturi. He had also wondered for longer than he cared to admit if his true mate had been a woman from his village in the time he was human, and if by Amun turning him into a vampire he had successfully cheated final death, but also been cheated out of his own happiness.

Unfortunately, one does not have the time to dwell on the supposed woes of immortal life when they worked for the Volturi. It had been rather easy for him to throw himself into his work, and for a few centuries he'd lived to serve only himself and the Volturi. From the Mid 1600s until the early 1900s Demetri had been lost in a sea of missions, blood lust, and plain and pure unadulterated desire. Not only did he feed more often than he thought was possible today, but he also had buried himself and his teeth into any human woman he could, and that was saying something.

With the new discoveries of sexually transmitted diseases, he was rather disgusted with himself and thankful for his immortality and immunity to such things.

Felix called those his dark years. It was in this time that Demetri had founded his morbid sense of humor. He was, quite literally, the stuff vampire horror movies were made of.

In the early 1900s, Demetri had no longer found solace buried in a woman and in the over consumption of blood. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind that caused him to reevaluate his behavior. Suddenly he was no longer spending his off time lurking the cities surrounding Volterra, but instead withdrew into his room. He rarely joined the guard for anything but scheduled duty or when assigned on a mission. His face remained impassive when comments were made about his disappearances into his quarters, some were even worried.

Despite many vampire's assumptions that the Volturi were a band of volatile and self-obsessed bullies, Demetri knew them to be far more. Yes, those qualifications were in agreeance with the portrayal of their coven for many centuries, but they held a more important role than they were routinely given credit for. The coven, although powerful and the practical police force and at times, judge, jury, and executioner of their world, may have been an exclusive club for only the most talented and gifted of vampires but they were good to each other. The kings seemed to care about the happiness of the guard, and the guard would light themselves ablaze if it meant they could protect the kings. It may not be a conventional coven/familial relationship like the Cullen's, but the Volturi did things in their own fashion.

It was for this reason that Demetri gathered Aro had allowed him time to himself to meet and court his mate. Aro was a great many things. Some ruthless, little virtuous, but mostly vile. The leader of the Volturi always had alternative reason and motive for the decisions he made. Aro was not black and white, nor was he easily perceived as such. Aro was several shades of gray, but his one motivator was protection of himself and his position in the Vampire world. Therefore, he needed to keep and appease his gifted members, for if Jane and Alec especially were to turn on him and the rest of the Coven, the Volturi would cease to exist as the vampire world knew it.

The Volturi held the power, but without their guard they were vulnerable. Not that a single member of the guard would ever spark a revolution against the Kings. Especially not Alec and Jane, the witch twins with the most devastating vampiric power on the earth. They viewed Aro as the paternal figure they never had, and their loyalties to the Volturi resided only on their deep adoration for their maker and master. No, the only vampires who would, and have done such a thing would be the Romanians, and as there were only two in the coven, the Volturi hadn't viewed them as a threat.

Demetri shook himself from his musings. Nevertheless, he was overjoyed he now had the opportunity that Aro had granted him, and thanked Aurora for her gift. He would have to remember to buy the new Volturi member something nice for her aid, and to thank Aro for his gracious offering of respite.

Demetri hadn't been through this region in decades, the closest covens to this area where the one lead by Francis in Quebec and the one lead by Michael, the man who had sired Aurora, in New York. Although he hadn't been in this city, his memory was sharp as any vampires' would be, he flitted through the vaguely familiar streets on his way to the hotel. General Motors towers where the same as they had been after they were built, four of them surrounding a cylinder shaped one in the middle, he wondered how humans, who were notoriously lazy, had yet to build bridges from one building to the other as a means to escape having to walk out of their way. He chuckled at the thought and continued on wards, the smell of Lake Erie assaulting his sharp senses.

He was almost to the Westin when he heard the sounds of a failing heartbeat underneath a bridge a few blocks from where he had been running. The smell of freshly spilled blood invaded his nostrils. That should not go to waste, he thought and he swiftly turned direction. Demetri had wished to wait until he'd already checked into his room to hunt but one did not wait when the opportunity presented itself.

The human was male, possibly in his late forties and quite clearly homeless. He was in the middle of bleeding to death from a stab wound that couldn't have been more than a few minutes old. Demetri, sensing no other heartbeats, revealed himself from the shadows. Being a predatory species, he didn't usually prefer his meals to be served up on a platter, gift wrapped if you will, but since this one was already dying he figured he would end the man's suffering and fill himself while he was feeling benevolent.

The man noticed Demetri almost right away, "Wh-what are you?" He asked, body trembling and pale with his lost blood and fear for the inevitable. The man thought he was hallucinating as he saw the pale, tall, and red eyed figure step out from the shadows, cloaked like something out of a horror movie.

Demetri offered a lopsided grin, "I am Death."

The man nodded, a smile gracing his scuffed features as he quickly came to terms with his fate, odd, for a human. Demetri supposed it was because the man knew he was going to die that his final words were; "Finally," as he whispered so low that no human ever could have heard it. It was abundantly clear to Demetri that this man had been waiting for his death for some while. Instead of wasting more time for the human, he moved silently so that he was standing behind the man as he sunk his overly sharpened teeth into the man's throat, pulling every ounce of remaining blood from the man's system before taking a chunk of flesh from his neck and tossing him into the river for good measure, that way when the body was discovered it would be a given that all of the fluids would have exited his body.

Demetri, having been satisfied by the man and needing no further sustenance, flitted to his hotel and checked in with the reception desk. He was reminded, not for the first time, of his age as a memory of a time when the hostesses or receptionists would escort you to your accommodations and bend to your needs. It was a small tradeoff for the television and the plumbing, he was sure. It seemed to him that the more advanced and 'intellectual' the humans became the less mannered and respectful they were. Humans, Demetri thought almost spitefully.

Once in his suite he quickly found the remote to check in to how the weather would be the following day. His plan to find Delphia would have to be adjusted based on whether the sun would be making an appearance or not. While he flipped through the channels nonchalantly his phone buzzed. The thing about being a Vampire and having sensitive hearing made it so that silence was a difficult luxury to come by, and so incessant and loud ring-tones were something the majority of them did not bother with, but a silent phone call would go unnoticed, so vibrate was the primary tendency.

Without checking to see who it was, he answered. "Demetri."

"You are on vacation, and yet you sound as though you're on official Volturi business," Felix's voice filtered through the receiver.

Demetri rolled his eyes at his long-time friend and companion, "I am gone not twenty- four hours and already you must torture me with your voice. What is it?"

"Our lovely new member, Aurora, asked for me to contact you. If you would be so kind as to can the sass, I would convey the message," Felix teased.

Landing on the weather channel, Demetri ignored Felix's jibe and responded, "Yes?"

"She says that she captured a glimpse of Delphia while practicing with her gift a few hours ago. She believes she can only see the mates in the exact moment as something important is happening, since Aro had seen everything that she sees he has also concluded that the memories that are granted her when she first sees the mate are only important moments in their lives."

"And what, pray tell, did Aurora see?" Demetri's interest was piqued at the thought of something important having happened in his mate's life while he was so close to her, and yet he missed it entirely.

Human life was of no importance to Felix, so his next words came out a bit uninterested, "Evidently Delphia's grandfather may have had an internal attack and passed away in their living room." He'd stated it as if he had simply informed Demetri of the weather they were to have in Italy that day. "Aurora seemed to think you should know. I argued that you would not care but she seemed adamant that I inform you. Enjoy your vacation, don't take a bite out of her too early."

Once Felix had hung up the phone Demetri sat and pondered. It was true, two months ago he wouldn't have cared if someone's grandfather had passed away. To tell the ugly truth, he didn't care now that his mate's grandfather had died, what he did care about what how his mate was taking it. Humans were, understandably, more sensitive to this sort of thing. Well, if he were being honest with himself, vampires who lost a loved one went absolutely ballistic on a good day. Therefore, a human's reaction was probably expected and far tamer than that of a vampire.

Briefly, Demetri wondered if he should find out which hospital she was in and flit over to check on her, if only to catch a glimpse. This surely thwarted his plans to court her right away. He would have to wait a couple of weeks for her to grieve, as humans needed time before they were able to cope with the death of a loved one.

Not only would he now more than before have to wait to court her, but he would have to wait to turn her as well. An emotionally damaged human made for an incorrigible newborn. Not even his good standing with the Volturi would be able to save his mate if she were to expose them to the world, if of course she were to be that kind of newborn. Not in this technological day and age, anyways.

He decided the best course of action for him to take would be to seek her out, if only to check in on her well-being and glimpse her for himself. In the age of technology, it had been fairly easy to pinpoint an exact address for a one Delphia Payne, whose middle name turned out to be Clio which amused Demetri greatly because of her name and his own Greek origins, with the hints that Aurora had given. Honestly, it was as though humans didn't have names like Delphia anymore. The thought saddened Demetri as he realized beautiful names like his mate's and many other vampires he had come into contact with over the years had unique names that, during their prime, were quiet popular. Mortals seemed to waste their children' names on the generics like Sara, or Ben.

Demetri reached into the only bag he had brought with him. Luggage was unnecessary when you had far too much money. He would purchase anything extra that he needed when the time came, he had mused. In a flash he had pulled out some clothes that would better suit for the winter environment of Michigan in January and placed colored contacts over his now cherry red eyes.

Since he had yet to meet his mate and therefore couldn't decipher her whereabouts using his tracking sense he strummed at the strings in his mind that connected his to two members of the Volturi, Chelsea and Afton. Although his rank was far above Afton's, who's own rank was literally non-existent, he knew even if the two were together Afton would have no choice but to answer the call. It was simply a courtesy, but it was not without Demetri's own ulterior motive. It had been several decades now that Chelsea and Afton had been spending less and less time with one another, a situation that only Demetri seemed to have noticed which was saying something for he rarely ventured from his own quarters. Still, it was easier for him, given that he could easily decipher anyone's whereabouts in a mere moment.

Determining that Afton was alone after shuffling through the whereabouts of his entire coven, Demetri plucked his cell phone that laid abandoned on the coffee table near the television and dialed a number he knew well. It was answered on the second right.

"Afton," The light tone of Chelsea's mate came through the receiver.

"I need your tech savvy," Demetri stated simply.

Afton was the Volturi's number one connection to the world of modern technology. He had been self-taught in the art of anything computerized. From programming to hacking, Netflix to online games Afton was who you wanted to ask for assistance.

"What do you need?" He asked calmly, Demetri could hear Afton sit in his computer chair and click the mouse a couple of times to toggle the screen saver.

"I need to you look into the hospitals here in Detroit and see if anyone with the surname of Payne has been admitted to a morgue or otherwise. P. A. Y. N.E."

The line was silent for a while save for the light clicking of Afton's fingers over the keyboard while he typed in all of the coding and information that was needed. Demetri had no idea what Afton was doing, only that the vampire himself knew what to do and therefore Demetri had trust in his friend's abilities. Although Afton was not a member of the guard he had proven himself to be quite resourceful, especially in recent years. The truth was that although the humans advanced the Volturi remained the same, completely immersed in the old ways of the world. While the vast majority of the guard agreed with their Kings decision to remain as they were, it was Afton who had appealed to the Kings interests when informing them of the reason they should all become at some level accustomed to technology, he did not foresee it vanishing from the humans interests any time soon.

It had been at Afton's insistence that most of the Volturi guard was forced to learn the basics of modern technology.

"A Louis Payne was admitted to the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit a few hours ago. Based on what I have pulled up here it looks like he is still alive now, however they don't expect him to make it."

"Does it say what he suffered from?" Demetri asked, genuinely curious.

"It does say that he's had a heart attack," Afton was quick to answer.

Demetri, processing the information, quickly asked, "And does it state what room number he would be in?"

"423 on level six."

"Thank you, Afton," Demetri stated as he hung up the phone.

It didn't take long for Demetri to flit to the Henry Ford Hospital. As determined as he was to see his mate, he let nothing distract him as he raced through the city. Before even three minutes had passed by Demetri was in the door and through the hallways in a blur of motion that not a single human had seen, and even the security cameras would have to slow to make out even the shape of a man. Now in close proximity the scent of his mate had infiltrated and tantalized his senses the second he had entered through the doors of the hospital. Her being so close to him had his entire body alight with a need so strong that he'd had to refrain from letting out an animalistic growl in anticipation of finally catching a glimpse.

Once he'd located the exact position of the room he held his breath and sped out of the building faster than a human eye could see, not having been prepared for just how alluring the scent of his mate would be.

Once outside he was able to catch himself again. The room was on the backside of the building, and therefore he was less likely to be spotted if he scaled the walls and perched himself outside the window, especially because it was night. He could easily break the glass if he wasn't careful with controlling his emotions. He briefly wondered if this was how Edward Cullen felt when he'd gotten a whiff of his singer and mate, Bella. It was a special kind of torture, to know that the most delectable blood one would ever taste would be that of the one you were meant to spend the rest of your immortal life with, but more so for those who deny their nature as the Cullen's do. In their case the need to feed from their singer, as mates had been miss-termed, would be cause for a more difficult time. He wondered how younger, relatively inexperienced vampires had done so in the past.

It was always easier for those vampires who's mates had already been turned before they met.

Scaling the wall Demetri followed the scent of his mate. The closer he grew the more tantalizing it was. When he was finally standing on the ledge outside of the window he finally was able to lay eyes on his mate.

The world nearly stopped for Demetri as he felt his gift shoot out and wrap tightly and as gently as he could make it around the link he now held for hers. Now I've got you. He thought as he tested the bond of his gift and strummed the cord between their minds, he was now able to determine her location. His chest felt a distinct pulling sensation that, had he not already known this woman to be his mate, would have clued him in to her importance right away. He found himself consciously willing his body to stay where it was and not to break the fragile glass window, snatch the woman, and never let her from his grasp again.

She was a tiny thing, a mere five foot if he estimated correctly. Her glorious orange flecked red mane was cut in the middle of her back, just beneath her shoulder blades. He could not see her face, her back was turned to him, but already she took his breath away. Her pale, small hand grasped the older man's on the bed. The only movement that came from her was of her lungs gently inhaling and exhaling.

Suddenly, Demetri was worried. Most humans would have moved more than that by now. He listened for the beating of her heart and realized that it was there, strong and steady. She sounded normal.

A woman, almost as tall as Demetri himself, threw open the hospital room door and glared down at Delphia. Demetri fought the urge to growl in warning but reminded himself that he was currently standing on the edge of a window and hadn't even met his mate yet. Furthermore, his mate had no idea vampires existed, so therefore it was rather imperative that he maintain his silence.

He watched as the woman unceremoniously dropped her overly large purse on the man's bedside table a small item spilling out and actually smacking against the man's chest, eyes never once leaving his Delphia's face. This woman's anger was visible, but it was her words that cause Demetri to wish the woman dead where she stood. He quickly began plotting the ways to torture and drain this wench as he quickly shot his mental link around the tenors in this woman's own mind, barreling it through her flimsy human mental barriers and imbedding itself into its new domain. Unlike with his Delphia, Demetri had aggressively pushed his link into this woman's unsuspecting mind she would be feeling quite the migraine soon, and for that he couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

"This is your fault," The woman hissed accusingly, "I fucking knew this would happen. I told you he couldn't have any more of that shit food you two eat!"

Delphia said nothing. Demetri wished dearly that he could enter the room and defend his mate, his entire body was screaming with his instinct to protect the frail human in front of him.

"You're so damn irresponsible, Della, you're sitting there all sad faced but do you even really care? My dad is dying on that bed right now because of you. Your entire existence was stressful on him; you know that? You and your mom took off for years, and then you come back and Evelyn dies, leaving dad stressed out and taking care of you, her ungrateful bratty teenager."

Delphia was trembling, with anger or with sadness Demetri did not know, but his anger was escalading with every word that exited this woman's mouth. He wished to protect his mate, but wondered why she did not defend herself. Could she have possibly been the catalyst for her grandfather's death? Surely not. Not with the way she held the elderly humans' hand and sat like a statue, her face turned towards him as if willing him to life with her eyes.

"Do you have anything to say at all Della?" The woman growled out, her rough voice causing Demetri to wince as it grated against his sensitive ears.

Delphia's head moved slightly so she was facing the woman and Demetri was able to catch a glimpse of her face and his unnecessary breathing ceased instantaneously. Her face was heart shaped and yet rather angular, but held a certain soft feminine look. She had high cheekbones that accentuated a small nose and somewhat thin, but plump for their size, lips. A human could not see correctly from this distance, but everything was magnified to his heightened sight. Her face held only a few scars of pubescent acne, her pores miniscule. Her eyes were the most brilliant shade of deep sea blue he had ever seen and, instead of clashing with her vibrant orange-red hair, they actually complimented her. In short, Delphia was an exquisite beauty.

He refused to admit he might have been biased. Delphia was stunning.

When Delphia spoke, it was as if someone had granted warmth to flow through Demetri's long dead, cold body once again. Her voice was like music, light, laughter, and everything he had ever enjoyed wrapped into a bundle of red haired splendor. Her words had not mattered, but he found himself captivated by the way she defended herself, as if she wasn't afraid of the woman who was twice her own size, "Mary, go snort some coke and get your fix. I did nothing to cause this, Gramps' only stress in life is bailing your sorry ass out of jail twice a year."

Demetri would have laughed if he wasn't afraid that the woman would lunge at his mate. When the woman instead snarled and snatched up her purse, he was able to smile at his mate's words.

Seemed like his Delphia was quite the firecracker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very interested in whatever Crit anyone may have. Please let me know - my main goal in my writing is to improve! Thank-you!


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, thanks for the Kudos!

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Three

Delphia could have sworn she saw a smile flicker across Louis' face.

There comes a time in everyone's life where Death is knocking on the back door asking to come inside. By asking, he gives the illusion that it's your choice whether you live or die. He allows you to grasp foolishly at the slippery remnants of your life while he picks your lock and grins wickedly. He opens the door slowly, almost teasingly, then snatches your breath from you and carts your soul to its eternal resting place, wherever that may be.

In short, Death is an asshole.

Louis Payne lay in the hospital bed, being kept alive only by the unyielding will of technology. There was little to no chance of recovery for him. Mary had made the decision as his power of attorney to pull the plug that night after their Pastor came to pray for his journey to 'his final resting place.' Della had rarely moved from her spot next to him since the hospital staff had wheeled him into this room. She held his slightly wrinkled older hand in her bony and pale one for hours, almost completely still. Mary had come in and yelled at her, accusing her of neglecting Louis and being the cause of all this stress in his life.

After saying a few choice words to Mary, Della had gone back to her previous position. It was almost as though Della had become as unresponsive as Louis. She simply stared at the gentle rise and fall of his chest, too afraid to look upon his resting face. From the moment the emergency room doctor had informed her of the fate of her Gramps her mind had raced as she thought of all the times they'd gone against the doctor's orders. Sugar, caffeine, fatty foods. Far too much pizza and McDonald's, not enough green beans and broccoli. She was filled with an unreasonable urge to feel responsible for Louis' impending death.

If she was being honest with herself, Gramps was already dead.

Heart attack. They said. It's quite common in older persons, sometimes they recover, sometimes they don't. Louis was one of the ones who wouldn't.

Della was vaguely aware of her aunt's presence in the hospital room once again, twelve hours after the last time she had been there. She chose not to acknowledge it, however, because the last time they spoke Mary hadn't left on good terms. Now that they were all each other would have in the world (besides various cousins and what not- the pretentious anal retentive douche bags that they were) Della wasn't sure she wanted a relationship with her aunt passed her grandfather's funeral.

"We need to talk," Mary stated, her tough as nails voice, rough from twenty or so years of smoking and several octaves lower than most females', called out and grasped Della's attention.

Slowly, as if to hold off the inevitable in a brief fit of rebellion, Della raised her head and met her aunts cold stare with blank eyes. She was forced to acknowledge the woman, but there was no law that said she had to like it, or that she had to be civil about it.

"I know you're fuckin' twenty-one, lazy, and just about as worthless as your mom was but you're gonna have to pull your head out of your ass for about thirty seconds while I explain something to you," Mary hissed venomously.

Della saw red. Everything was fine when Mary was talking trash about her several hours prior. It was even acceptable when Mary made the decision to pull Gramps off the life support because he wouldn't be able to regain proper functions and live without the tube even if they'd kept him on it. Prolonging his life unnaturally wouldn't be something Gramps wanted, anyways. She could understand all of that, she wasn't exactly winning any awards as best granddaughter in the world, she could admit. Her mom, however, was a subject that when brought up was meant to be done so with respect. If Mary couldn't do that, then Mary was in for a rude awakening. Della was still seething dangerously, slowly standing from her seated position for the first time since she had gone to the bathroom three hours prior, while Mary had continued talking and facing away.

"-and you're not going to be able to stay. You can have a few weeks to figure things out for yourself but you will be leaving. Also-"

Mary didn't get to finish her statement. She was interrupted by a deep, slow, and loud intake of breath. Mary chanced a glance at her niece to see that Della had, at some point in her tirade, stood and looked to be absolutely livid. Della's face was tinted a startling red, her stance defensive, she looked about ready to lunge. Mary raised an overly plucked eyebrow at Della and turned to face her full on.

Mary was by no means a defenseless woman. At six foot and two hundred pounds she could easily take a lot of the other women at the jail when she'd be carted off there. ('I didn't do it- my lawyer fucked me over!' She'd say.) Mary Payne never had a problem fighting anyone, and she wouldn't start today. To say she was confident that she could take her hardly five foot, less than 115-pound niece was a bit of an understatement.

Mary was sure if she flicked the girl then Della would be in agony on the ground.

"You wanna go, little girl?" she hissed, glaring warningly at her niece.

"Not particularly, Mary. I'd like to make one thing very clear." Della began, making sure to step around the hospital bed so that the area around her would be more ideal if fists were to fly. "Don't you ever insult my mom in my presence again."

Scoffing, Mary threw her hands to her hips, "She was my sister, I'll say what I damn well please. She was a worthless whor-" again, Mary was not able to finish her sentence. The back of her head hit the floor, causing her to become disoriented and dizzy, blood pooling in her mouth as a rotted tooth loosened dangerously, before she knew what was going on.

"One more fucking word about my Mom, Mary, one more. Go ahead. You can talk shit about me until you're blue in the face, but keep her out of it. This is an inappropriate conversation to be having right now anyways, am I right? Or am I wrong here, do you not want to put your own selfish fucking agenda before your dying father? I mean, shit, you couldn't even wait until after the funeral to come up in here talking down to me and evicting me from my home," Della spat, her red hair fanned out around her, some of it falling forward and brushing the floor where she crouched.

With Della's knee being placed on Mary's chest, and her hands on Mary's shoulders there was really no room for the older woman to gain some ground and turn this position around. Defeated, Mary made a noise of assent that was closer to a growl and a moan, but it was enough for Della to back off and feel confident that her aunt would keep her comments to herself.

The second Della stood, Mary had flailed her arms from her position on the floor and knocked the girl to the ground. Mary then mounted her niece, punching her once in a move that was sloppy and not centered. The fist that had been aimed for Della's nose hit the girl in the jaw. Della gasped in pain, pulling her leg up and kicking Mary as hard as she could in the lower stomach. Seven years of martial arts training had Delphia's mind whirling as she quickly got to her feet and found her center while Mary was still struggling to turn from her back to her belly in order to push herself up.

"I suggest that you run along and get another fix or whatever it is you need to be easier to deal with, I don't give a shit, just fuck off," Della stated as she briefly glanced in the mirror nearby at her red and already swollen jaw. She resumed her position beside her Gramps, eyes still trained on her aunt while Mary righted herself and glared at her niece, once again angry and seething, now sore and bleeding to boot. Mary made to move towards her niece again and Della held up a single finger, "Mary, if you get caught fighting in a hospital you're going to prison. No one will be willing to bail you out this time."

Growling in frustration, "You fucking attacked me!" Mary hissed, taking a step back. She quieted for a moment, as if allowing the information to sink in before continuing, "They're pulling the plug on Dad in another couple hours, and the family will be here soon. Like I said before, the house was left to me in the will, and I need it, so legally you've got about days sixty days to vacate. I. Want. You. Out. And you better watch your back, I've got friends in low places itching to use a pretty face like yours," Mary spat threateningly and, in a bout of mayhem, kicked over a stand that went to the vacant bed in the room as she made her way to the door.

Delphia flicked her aunt off and called her a coward when the woman turned back around with her mouth open like she wanted to say something else. Once Mary had finally left Della went back to holding Louis' hand and bent down so she was close to his ear.

"Don't worry Gramps, Mary's just being a bitch because she's withdrawing off whatever she's on right now. At least she's not being violent. This is the second time we've gotten into it in twenty-four hours and she's yet to try and hit me. Everything will be fine for me, so you can just move on and not worry about a thing. Play some cards up in heaven with Grams or some shit. Mom said Grams and you were always playing cards." She whispered positively, ignoring the pain that surged from her jaw.

Although her world seemed like it was crashing down like a building during an earthquake around her, Della couldn't help but think that her being thrown out of her house might be a blessing in disguise. Of course, she would have rather left on her own terms and not because her Gramps had passed on and her aunt had evicted her. She did realize, however, that she wouldn't have any more commitments, she could be free of restraints to go back on the road. The options were limitless, though she felt sick at the thought of Mary moving into Gramps' house and trashing the place. It would probably be the catalyst to the end of the quiet neighborhood. Mary would start the drug trafficking in the quiet little suburb; the rest of the neighbors were elderly so they would probably be forced into apartments or retirement homes.

Life sometimes was a bitter, cruel joke. You live fifty years in the same house that you slaved to pay off and then only ten years into your retirement, actually enjoying your freedom, you have to sell because you can't keep up with the demands of your home anymore. Your kids are little shits who, at forty years old, no longer care about your welfare so long as they get theirs so even if you moved in with them you'd quickly move out because of their selfish tendencies and their attitude towards you for imposing on their lives. Della prayed for the fates of Louis' neighbors, who didn't deserve that sort of final couple decades of their lives.

Ah, humanity, how it confounds us all.

"You know what I'm going to do, don't you?" she questioned Louis, smoothing back his grey and white hair with a small smile on her face. "I'll be sure to drop by whenever I'm in the region."

Delphia could have sworn she saw a smile flicker across Louis' face.

In the end, Louis Payne had passed peacefully within minutes of being off life support. At the request of Mary, all machines were unhooked so they wouldn't have to hear as his heart slowly quit beating and flat lined. At exactly 3:46 PM on January 9th, 2015, Louis Payne slipped from the world in a room full of his closest friends and his last remaining relatives.

The funeral had been a large affair. Louis had many friends and acquaintances with whom he had shared his life. The large church the Payne family attended had not a single empty seat in the pews. The service had been beautiful, and two members of the church had risen to each give a eulogy. By the end of the service it was only family who went to the burial site, while everyone else met up at the reception hall to commence the dinner so the family wouldn't have to. Mary had carried on, whimpering in sadness at the loss of her father. Most of the family knew she wasn't truly as upset as she seemed. No one questioned her motives in pulling Louis off his life support, since there was barely a one percent chance of resuscitation.

The will had been read after the reception. Mary smirking smugly at Della when it was read that she was, in fact, to inherit the house after all legal matters were taken care of. As the list went on, however, Mary's smirk quickly vanished and was replaced with a scowl of contempt. Della was set have first dibs on any possessions on the property that she wanted, followed directly by any family member aside from Mary, whom Louis believed in receiving the house made it unnecessary for her to have all the possessions inside of it. Louis had also said that all of his financial assets and everything in his accounts were to go to Della, the only request he made was that Della take the Mustang and travel the country with it and his monetary contribution, saying it was about time it got some miles under its ancient hood.

It was the night after the reception that found Della sitting in a more quite bar on a side of town that didn't much cater to party goers. Usually she avoided this type of place, but this bar in particular had a sort of sentimental value. Louis had taken her to this bar the night she had turned twenty-one and treated her to her first, well, first legal shot of bourbon.

She sat at the bar, her red hair pulled up into a rubber band because she couldn't find a hair tie anywhere. "Two doubles of Jim Bean, please."

The man, in his early thirties, winked at her flirtatiously, "You got it."

The shots were placed down in front of her just minutes later and she quickly moved one to her right, where her Gramps had sat all those months ago. It had been a quiet night, and Louis had gotten her completely plastered in hopes that she would forever stay away from the stuff after that. His attempt was in vain, however, because she had already been drinking for some time and the bill at the end of the night was enough to have taken a week's worth of her own tips. Her hangover hadn't even been so bad the next day, because she'd taken three aspirin and drank a liter of water before passing out.

Needless to say, Louis hadn't taken her out to drink again.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" An elegant accented voice came from her right where she had placed the shot, interrupting her thoughts.

Della didn't even turn around, "Yeah, it is, but the one to my left isn't."

She felt the stranger move behind her and saw him sit to her left out of the corner of her eye. She plucked her double shot off the table and knocked it back, signaling to the bartender that she was ready for another, but asked for a single instead. The strangers alluring voice again interrupted her silence, "I'll take a single Patron, please."

Della wasn't in the mood for male shenanigans tonight, but she couldn't help but notice the deep and eloquent voice of the stranger who had sat next to her. His accent made him sound European. She wasn't sure what nationality but from her glimpse of the almost chalky, yet still olive tone of his hand he might be from the southern parts of Europe. Either way, his accent paired with the sound of his baritone was enough to send a shiver through her.

"May I ask your name?" He asked, and since she figured she wasn't going to be getting rid of him for a while, she figured she might as well talk to him. She didn't really want to come here to think about times passed, but she had wanted a moment of silence to remember her Gramps.

She looked over to the stranger and was instantly captivated by how svelte he looked. He was almost inhumanly beautiful. His face was angular, complete with a pointed, refined nose and a strong jawline. He looked almost like one would expect ancient nobility to have appeared. He held not a single trace of boyishness, his dark and deep set eyes were encased in thick eyelashes, giving the impression of danger with just the right mix of excitement. His lips weren't thin, but they weren't overly large. The man's brown hair was styled in a devil may care sort of way, attempting that I don't care what I look like but I did spend ten minutes making the hair look like I don't care style. His clothes screamed posh, as if he'd never wanted for anything. She was willing to bet he drove a sports car, but for some reason that didn't really put her off like it typically would have.

"You may ask, but that doesn't mean you'll receive an answer." She smiled triumphantly, as if she had pulled one over on him.

He grinned and her heart nearly stopped as his cheeks raised and eyes crinkled as they accommodated the gesture. He was beyond handsome. "I ask to be polite. You have your identification card on the table, Miss Payne."

Della could almost feel herself flush as she looked down where, indeed, the treacherous little card was sitting on the counter next to her car keys. She quickly stuffed the card into her pocket with an artificial scowl, muttering "traitor." She turned her head to look at the stranger once more, "It's not fair that you've practically stolen my name and I don't know yours."

The man looked mockingly affronted, "I did no such thing, Miss Payne."

The bartender returned with her drink and the strangers Patron, almost slamming the man's on the table. Della could have smiled at the clear insinuation, but let it go. It did not due to dwell on it. The bartender stood little chance, as did the stranger. She would be going home alone despite the clear panty-dropper who was sitting next to her.

"I say you owe me a name, cheers!" she said, raising her glass to meet his. They clanked glasses and she knocked hers back, paying no mind to him as she placed it back on the table.

When she looked at him he had a look of unease on his face, his glass was empty but still clutched in his hand. "This is repulsive; how can people drink this?" He questioned, quite possibly to himself.

His question caused Della to laugh, "Have you never had Patron before?"

The stranger shook his head, "I am afraid I do not spend my time at a tavern regularly, nor do I consume alcohol."

"Then what are you doing at a bar?" She giggled, feeling the effects of her drinks, without having to ask, the bartender gave her another single. She left this one to sit while she observed the man next to her, waiting for an answer.

He gave her a smoldering look and smiled alluringly, "I am trying something new."

Della snorted, "Well I'm sorry to be the one to inform you but your decision was shit. You can't just start out on something like Patron. You have to work your way up to the hard stuff. Get a craft beer or something fruity instead."

"I should order a beer?" He questioned, raising a sophisticated brow.

"No, you shouldn't. Not now anyways. You can't drink beer after liquor, you'll be sicker than a dog in an hour if you do." She responded, "To be honest you should probably get a mixed drink to start out with and work your way up to the hard stuff. It would help you out, have you ever tried anything you liked before?"

He grinned almost wickedly, like he was in on his own private joke that she wasn't privy to when he answered, "I've always quite liked Bloody Mary's."

Della shivered slightly at the way he'd said the word bloody; it was almost like a lover's caress. She dismissed it quickly and knocked her third drink back. The bartender was instantly there and she put her hand over her cup right before he took it, "A Bloody Mary for my friend and a White Russian for me, please."

The bartender nodded and turned around to begin mixing the drinks. He looked between the girl and the untouched double shot of bourbon to her right with a questioning glance as he worked. The man with clothing that costed more than the bartenders' mortgage was glaring threateningly at him but the bartender didn't mind. He was used to this guys' type. The sexual predator. In his time as a bartender he'd seen all kinds. The ones with money and smooth speech were the worst kind of men, they usually preyed on the woman who was drinking alone, and he wanted to monitor the situation. Luckily it was a slow night.

"So where about are you from, little lady?" The bartender asked Della, throwing her a smile as he worked on the drinks.

Instantly a little unreasonably angry at being called little, Della responded with a smile in place regardless, "Everywhere."

He nodded casually, "And you, sir?"

"Oh yeah, sure, he can be a sir, but I have to be little?" Della stated under her breath, causing the stranger to chuckle. She nearly jumped out of her skin, how had he heard that?

"I am visiting from Italy." He stated smoothly, but his eyes were glaring dangerously at the man who'd just set drinks in front of them.

"Italy? Hmm, that's nice." The bartender replied, completely disinterested.

Della however, had been enthralled the minute the country's name passed the stranger's lips. "Oh man- Italy? I've always wanted to go there. I just finished writing a paper on the Roman Empire for my ancient civilizations class."

The stranger flashed her a smile, "The Roman Empire has nothing on the Ancient Greeks. Yes, militarily they were more efficient, but the Greeks, they were a sight to behold, Miss. Payne." He spoke fondly, as if he knew what he was talking about, causing Della to smile at him in return and position herself so that she was now facing the man.

"I don't disagree with that. I would argue that Greek art and politics where better, but the Romans defiantly knocked everything out of the ball park when it comes to brute strength. Their republic was as scary as it was admirable, but the Athenian democracy, I believe, worked just as well if not better and although an outsider suspected tyranny of majority vote, such was not the case in the beginning. It's why during the founding of the American Constitution we became both a democracy and a republic."

Della spoke with the stranger for hours about the parallels between the Ancient Greeks and the Romans. Eventually the bartender had walked away, sensing that he was entirely too far out of his element. The stranger was well versed and knew what he was talking about, he had even informed Della of many facts that she hadn't known. At one point, the stranger had gotten up to use the facilities, and during that time Della had begun drinking water and pulled a few Advil out of her purse. Just as she had taken them the bartender had told her that if she felt uncomfortable driving home then he would call her a cab. She explained it would not be necessary and the stranger had returned.

They spoke some more, now debating over American history, which he also knew quite a bit about for being a foreigner, more than most American adults knew. She was actually quite impressed by his vast and beautiful oasis of knowledge. He was like a tall drink of ice cold water on a scorching desert day to her. Della found herself saddened and disappointed by the time last call was announced.

"Well, I guess I should be heading home. It's been wonderful talking to someone who is just as enthused by history as I am. It's rare, even in my classes. It's like no one cares about what happened in the past anymore," she stated, moving to press her credit card into the bartender's outstretched hand.

"Allow me," the stranger pulled out a shiny piece of platinum colored plastic and placed it in the bartender's hand, "I have not had such an in depth discussion in years, the least I can do is treat you to your drinks."

"Are you sure?" Della asked, not one to turn down the man's kind offer, but she didn't want him to do it if he didn't actually want to, and she owed him no favors if he did, though after their conversation she didn't want to assume that was the reason he'd offered to pay.

He nodded and smiled kindly towards her, though his eyes flitted dangerously as he glimpsed the yellowing bruise across her jaw, his hand raising to touch it briefly. Della was surprised not so much by the cold feel of his hand on her face, but by the sort of numbing electric shock that surged through her. It wasn't until after the feeling faded that she thought of how cool his hand was and how soothing it was against the bruise left there of her scuffle with her aunt Mary. "My mind has not stopped questioning since I laid eyes upon this contusion. Excuse me, it may be terribly rude of me to ask, but how did this happen, Miss Payne?" He asked gently, though is eyes seemed to flicker dangerously in the low bar lights.

Della shrugged, brushing off his dangerous expression as a sort of weird male protective instinct. Like that one country song where the girl is out for drinks because their boyfriend cheated on her and the country singer offers to 'bust his lip,' but really he just wanted to get laid. It didn't matter how alluring this stranger was, he wasn't getting laid. "Oh, just a scuffle with a family member. No big deal, I heal pretty fast."

The stranger's hand withdrew and a look of anger flashed across his face. When the bartender returned the man's card the stranger stood quickly, as if he were trying to flee. "It was delightful getting to know you tonight, Miss Payne. We will meet again."

He turned and began walking to the front of the bar while Della collected her things. As an afterthought, she quickly called after him despite his near cold dismissal. "Wait!" He turned and fixed her with a kind stare, though he looked almost anxious to get out of the room. "You owed me a name."

Something flickered in the stranger's eyes, and then a full blown smile erupted across his features as he let out a gentle laugh, "My name is Demetri, diletto."

"Miss?" The bartender interrupted as Della watched Demetri bowed his head slightly towards her and gracefully walked out the front door, he pointed to the double shot that had sat to the right of her the entire time completely untouched, "Do you want to drink this double?"

Della grinned, "Nope. That one is for my Gramps."

The bartender looked confused, "Was he supposed to be here? Do you need to call someone?"

"No," Della laughed her entire face irrupting with mirth as she thought about how the conversation with the stranger had been entirely reminiscent of all of the conversations she'd ever had over the subject of history with her Gramps, "He sent an angel."

Regardless of this spectacular night she had spent speaking with the mysterious Demetri, it was the next morning that found Della sitting inside the Mustang loaded with a full tank of gas. There were two suitcases of clothes, a pair of tennis shoes, a pair of flip flops in the back seat. The money she had acquired though working and selling her Oldsmobile sat buried in the camping equipment that she had loaded in the trunk. In the front seat next to her sat a laptop and a dead cell phone. A picture of her mom and Gramps sat tucked into the plastic next to the odometer of the vehicle, she was ready to roll.

Although she was leaving Michigan, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been destined to meet the stranger, Demetri, in that particular bar on that particular night. She felt as though there had been an instant connection with him, and it had been enough to force her to consider staying. When she woke the next morning, Della had decided her plan of action. She would leave, as intended.

If God or Fate intends something big with this Demetri, then he will be placed in my path again. She reasoned, she just couldn't stay. Relationships were fleeting anyways, and remaining in Detroit where she had no home would have just made her miserable. Besides, he would have to return to Italy eventually, even if they were to meet again while she remained in Michigan.

She didn't stop to say goodbye to anyone but Herman, who had graciously given her his number, a hundred dollars, and a hug with the invitation to call any time. She quickly hit I-75 and headed south to make due of the good weather until it was warm enough in the east to travel that way for a few months.

With the windows cracked in the car for air flow and the radio blaring, Della was free to roam for the first time in seven years.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has left a Kudo on this so far. I'm trying to catch this up with it's twin over on Fanfiction, because that one has more chapters out. Once it's all caught up I'll post updates together. 
> 
> Thank you all so much!

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Four

It was most surreal, to see so much of his mate's childhood mapped out before him in the form of post cards and blithe photographs.

Demetri was in one word: captivated. Captivated by the expanse of knowledge that his mate had acquired about the world they lived in over such a short time of her life. She knew considerably more than the average human about a variety of historical events and subjects spanning from the ancient Mesopotamia, to the events of the American 'war on terror' which had taken place in her own lifetime. He found that she seemed to be deeply interested in his own knowledge, as well, and they had sustained a meaningful conversation, something that Demetri hadn't done is centuries.

He shouldn't have consumed that alcohol, however. He deeply regretted the moment that he had to leave his mate's side as his system forced the offending liquid from his body. He had, however, taken the opportunity to replace his quickly dissolving contacts. He'd chuckled at the idea of returning that night to his mate, flashing his crimson eyes towards the meddlesome bartender whom had interrupted their conversation more than once.

The omnipresent string quartet of Delphia's blood hadn't retreated in the entirety of the time they had spent together, but the longer he was in her presence the more imperative it became to protect her, even from himself. He had only the lingering desire for her blood, but no wish to kill her for it. Regardless of his beastly need for sustenance, there was a deep level of sobriety in the fact that if he were to indulge, his mate would die a permanent death.

The one thing that was able to sober him was the ugly, yellowing, but still very much purple, bruise that had adorned his mate's features. It seemed that, in his absence during the daylight hours while Delphia's grandfather was in the hospital, someone had seen fit to harm her. He had easily deduced, from the bruises that marred Della's aunt's features at the funeral (he may have been watching from afar), that this Mary had returned hours after he had left and there had been another disagreement. It was clear from observing the way Mary walked with her back slightly hunched and the fact that the woman was missing a few of her teeth that his Delphia was indeed the victor.

How someone so small in stature was able to triumph over someone so large in a fracas he was not sure. However victorious his mate had been, that did not negate the fact that someone had dared to lay hands on her. Demetri had, in the past couple of days, done everything physically possible to keep himself from ripping Mary apart limb from limb and burning her like he would his own kind. The animal, or beast if you will, inside of him was raging and spitting at the chance to slaughter the woman. It was a true testament of his age and strength that he was able to hold back thus far. If had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his mate would not be effected by the murder of her family member so soon after her grandfather's death then this Mary would be dead already.

Demetri was still reveling in the events of the night before and what he planned to do when he crossed paths with this Mary once again when something caused him to check on Delphia's whereabouts. He reached out with his gift and sought the tenors of hers in the early afternoon hours. He strummed the invisible cord that connected his mind to hers as he felt for her presence and location. If his heart could have been beating it would have screeched to a devastating halt. His Delphia was southbound, passed the Ohio border and into the northern parts of Kentucky. He panicked, wondering what had happened to cause her to flee. She hadn't mentioned anything about a trip since he'd been watching her for the past few days, and nothing when they had spoken the previous night.

It would've been quite strange to share travel plans with a stranger, he admitted and couldn't fault her for not speaking to him of her plans. In fact, she had sold her own vehicle to someone from her school the day after her grandfather's funeral. She hadn't gotten much for it, Demetri reasoned. Though that meant nothing, one human could survive for a few weeks on what Delphia had received for her vehicle, he imagined.

Cursing himself for not having the foresight enough to check on her sooner Demetri began to make preparations to follow her. She would not escape him now that he had finally found her, though he now had to obtain a vehicle and he would have to wait for sundown to begin his pursuit. Demetri sighed to himself, Delphia's travel was an inconvenience to his plans to court her. How frustrating. He thought as he made quick work of calling a vehicle rental company and securing himself an automobile.

As the sun began to set Demetri made the quick decision to feed before he was lost to the road for the foreseeable future. Grinning wickedly to himself, he realized that he had just the right human in mind. Tracing the tenors in the mind which he had only recently come into contact with, he found himself surprised by the location of his victim. And that is what this one was, a victim. This particular human was not simply a meal, for this was one he wanted destroyed, in every sense of the word. His pursuit had landed him on the rooftop of a small, two story brick home. One that he'd come to know as the home his Delphia had resided in.

There were two police cars idling on the property, one in the drive way and the other in the street yet slightly elevated on the curb. Demetri settled himself on the roof, hidden in the shadow of the chimney while he listened to the dialogue below him.

"What do you mean, she had every right to take it? It was on this damn property, property that belongs to me!" Mary Payne screeched at the poor officers that stood on the front porch.

One officer, clearly exasperated by the woman's tone, spoke up indignantly, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voice, please. As we said, your father's lawyer sent over the paperwork this afternoon and the will was enclosed for us to look over. It turns out that the property you've reported stolen was, in fact, left to a Delphia Clio Payne. She did the title transfer yesterday afternoon and everything seems to be legal. We're only here to inform you that the report you filed against Miss Payne has been nullified."

"It was on my property when she took it, that makes it mine because she hadn't taken it before the property became mine!" Mary was still adamant.

Demetri controlled his urge to growl. The woman was trying to sic the human law enforcement on his mate for anything she could, and to add insult to injury she was attempting to do so in a vengeful and vindictive way. His years with the Volturi had conditioned him against false witness and spiteful actions. In his eyes, and because Delphia was his mate, Demetri took this as a capital offence against a member of the Volturi coven. He was sure that had Mary been a vampire, she would stand before the Volturi and be executed on the spot for her behavior and manipulation. Since she was human, Demetri had free reign to do as he pleased with her. His mind was already back to his earlier ponderings on how best to torture and kill this vile excuse for a being.

"Technically since the paperwork hasn't been completely filed this property still belongs to Mr. Louis Payne. We are sorry for your loss, but it's the law, Ma'am. The vehicle belongs to your niece, there's nothing to be done. Have a good night." The other officer responded flippantly and made a dash to his vehicle. The other quickly followed, both glad to wash their hands of this case and this woman.

They nearly peeled off of the street, complete with the screeching of rubber against asphalt. I almost put Demetri in mind of one of Felix's cartoons the male so enjoyed watching.

Demetri was, by now, absolutely furious with this woman who had on more than one occasion wronged his Delphia. Gracefully, he jumped from the roof into the back yard. The scent of his mate was overpowering in this house, and the tantalizing smell of her only proved stronger the moment he broke the lock and slid the back door open, entering the house. Heavy footfalls came from upstairs, but Demetri was preoccupied. His attention was drawn to the pictures that littered the hallway and the living room that was adjacent to his back door entrance.

He had never seen so many framed pictures casually nailed to plaster walls in his existence. They were varied in sizes, and every single one seemed to have been taken candidly. There where photos of family, landscapes, landmarks, sculpture, you name it. As he turned the corner and entered the living room his attention was drawn to an entire wall on the far left side of the room. This wall in particular was covered from floor to ceiling in postcards, letters, and photographs. All of the photos were of a small woman with short brown hair, vibrant, and kind brown eyes who's smile reminded him of Delphia's, and a child with bright orange-red hair.

It was most surreal, to see so much of his mate's childhood mapped out before him in the form of post cards and blithe photographs. He could only guess that his Delphia had traveled often with her mother, from the hundreds of different places it seemed they had been. His chest tightened as he came to the realization that Delphia had left all of this behind when she had traveled south, apparently with a vehicle of value. As far as sentiment went, Demetri had long since been a maudlin being, rampant and uncontrollable emotions were best left to humans after all, but something told him that his mate would one day regret leaving all of these memories behind. No doubt the pictures would be among the first to go once her aunt had settled into the home.

The footsteps upstairs moved quickly towards the stair case and began to descend. Demetri took a seat in the comfortable looking lazy boy that sat facing the pictures he'd just been observing, his hands folded gently over his right knee as it crossed the other. His back was ruler strait, with his head held high, his nose pointing just a minuscule amount in the air as he tipped his chin up. This posture was meant to give the impression of the human being beneath him, which in all reality she was beneath him. He knew he possessed a certain regal air, it had come about from a thousand years of being among the most powerful and feared of his world, and was hoping to intimidate the human into giving him some information before he killed her.

It took a moment after Mary had hit the bottom of the stairs to turn the lights in the living room on. When she did she didn't immediately look to the room, but had walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator instead. Demetri fought to roll his eyes as she cursed, "The bitch didn't leave a thing in here." He figured this action was quite appropriate for Delphia, as rotten food would have surely made the home smell disgusting in a few weeks' time, in the event Mary hadn't yet moved in. Still muttering to herself, Mary walked into the living room.

Her shriek of fright was rather satisfying, though he could have done without the subsequent squawking. "Who are you? What are you doing here? The cops just left, they can be back here in a minute!"

"Even if I were to allow you to reach for your telephone they would not make it in time to save you. In fact, they could not save you if they tried." Demetri chuckled.

Mary stiffened, the scent of fear radiating from her body in waves, but didn't reach for her phone, "You're with Ryan aren't you? Shit man, just tell him I need an extension. I'll get him his money, I've got all the stuff here in the house to sell, I just need a couple weeks to get it all."

Her heart was beating erratically in her chest. Demetri could see her veins pulsing faster with each passing second as her body began to react to her fear. She had every reason to be afraid, more so now that Demetri had discovered why she needed the house and the items inside. She owed a debt to someone influential that couldn't be paid, and she had practically jumped at the first opportunity she'd had to make amends with whatever or whomever Ryan was. A narcotics dealer, no doubt, as Demetri could smell the poisonous drugs within her blood. He could feel rage bubbling beneath the surface but tried to keep it down. He knew his eyes were black with both anger and hunger, a more morbid than deadly combination for a vampire.

"Tell me if I am mistaken, but, as my sources have informed me- you've secured your deceased father's residence and thrown your niece from the property in order to settle your debt with Ryan?" Demetri's already deep voice dropped several octaves as he spoke, the dangerous feel to the room increased though the human could not tell why. It was easy for him to pretend to be in league with this Ryan, as it gave him easy access to whatever information he wanted to finagle out of Mary. She really wasn't all that bright.

"Please, Della wouldn't have stayed anyways. She's too much like her mother, a runner. I'm surprised she stayed as long as she had. The girls' been fucking itching to get back on the road since her Mom died." Mary growled out, "But that doesn't matter, will you just tell Ryan I'll have his money in two weeks?"

An idea struck him in the heat of the moment. As a predator, he had always enjoyed playing with his food before eating it. This time would be no different than usual, and though he was already intensely angered by this woman he couldn't help but attempt to pry her of more information about his mate. Though tainted and masochistic as it probably was, he had always been an opportunist. "I cannot leave by your request just yet, Mary. Ryan has sent me to acquire information regarding your niece, Delphia."

Mary's expression turned questioning, before replying snidely, "She's too stuck up for the work he'd have her do. That and she'd be too much work for him, tell him he doesn't want her for that. She's stubborn and strong willed, not to mention an experienced fighter, she wouldn't take kindly and easily to trafficking."

Demetri growled, all information filed away for later review while his mind focused on one simple phrase, trafficking.

"Did you just fucking growl, dude?" Mary asked, taking out a cigarette and lighting the end. Demetri, having not smelt the lingering scent of cigarette in the house before now, realized that she was doing it out of disrespect for her father's home.

"You are not in the position to ask me questions, Mary. Ryan said that if he gets your niece, half of your debt will be forgiven."

Demetri was instantly sickened by the almost menacing intrigue that Mary gave off when she smiled at his offer. If there was ever any doubt as to whether this human should be left alive or not, it had completely shattered away with that one look. This woman, if she could be called such, would gladly sell her own niece off to a narcotics dealer who clearly had ties with human trafficking. The thought of his mate being sold off into that lifestyle made Demetri wish he could be physically ill, for the feeling that pervaded his senses and body was closely akin to his burning. He doubted that Delphia knew of this part of her addict aunt's lifestyle.

"Della's probably states away by now," she stated, taking another drag of her stick of death. Demetri already knew this, but allowed the woman to proceed. "Finding her would be a bitch and a half but for Ryan's boys it might not be. She'll be using her bank card and my Dads, since he fucking left her all his money. She's probably headed south. My sister loved it down there and during their ten year break from reality they'd spent most of their winters between Florida and Texas. I'll tell you whatever you want to know to make it easier for you."

Demetri's eyes were now a vicious, soulless black, he knew. Mary gasped when, before her eyes, he flashed from sitting in her father's chair to directly in front of her. He was so close to Mary that the only object that could have been placed comfortably between them would have been a piece of paper. Mary's heart rate skyrocketed and the scent of arousal hit his senses. Disgusted, he spoke. "Nothing more from you. If I had more time I would make this as painful and lasting as you deserve. Consider it a mercy from the gods that you will die quickly."

"What the fuck, man? Is this about Della? She doesn't even matter, dude!" Mary screeched and tried to scramble away. He allowed her to get only to the door, giving her a small sense of survivability before he pursued.

"On the contrary, Mary, Delphia is the only thing that matters to me." Demetri whispered in the human's ear just as his hand enclosed around her throat before she was able to unlock the door.

Less than twenty minutes later he was dumping her body, along with his outer layer of blood soaked clothes, into Lake Erie.

~.~.~.~.~

In his mind, Demetri knew that Delphia had stopped a few kilometers, or as the American's would say miles, south of Knoxville Tennessee for the night just four hours ago. There were still another few hours to go before night fell once again. Clearly, although she had originally left midday, his Delphia was more of a nightwalker than he was. She'd been on the road for nearly fourteen hours, making it just passed two in the morning when she finally stopped. He wondered if this was typical of her, or if she'd simply done this today to get as far away as possible.

It was now going on six in the morning and Demetri had been on the road since around ten that previous evening after having taken care of some loose ends. He was already almost to the Kentucky/Tennessee border. Demetri was thankful for vampire senses for as he drove he was like a built in radar, and anytime he saw a state patrolman a few miles ahead, Demetri was sure to reduce his speed from his rapid 140 to a slow and steady 70. The state of Ohio had been outrageous, the police stationed every twenty miles or so. He realized that his only hindrance was the sun, as he could travel during the day but procuring gasoline would inevitably become a problem. His speed and the fact that he didn't have to sleep made it easier for him to catch up with her before she got dangerously far away from him. Being the worlds most renowned tracker, Demetri knew he would always be able to find Delphia if she managed to escape him, but he'd prefer to be with her in her travel.

She was such a small human, he worried that just about anything could cause harm to her without him near to shield her. That wasn't saying that she did her best to attract danger to her person, at least not since he had been near enough to observe her. The more he watched her, the more he realized she was actually rather graceful for a human, if a bit naive. Demetri's mind wandered to his vision of what she would be like as a vampire. Strong, small, lethal, and with a temper to match. She would be exquisite.

But first, he had to get to know her as a human. He felt that if she was turned to quickly he would forever wonder what she looked like when she blushed, how she dined on disgusting human food, how the heat of her human flesh would feel against his cold and dead outer shell. The woman was turning him into mush and they'd only had a single, albeit stimulating, conversation.

Demetri didn't care. Delphia was the embodiment of life.

Briefly, he wondered how he would approach her again, especially after chasing her across country. Surely a human would find his behavior both strange and abhorrent. He'd never second guessed himself so often in his thousand years of immortality.

He felt almost… human.

The thought alone was enough to make him cringe, humanity was something he'd left behind long ago. Humans were food, the only reason to give a human the time of day would be to drink them. Unless of course that human is a mate or set to be turned. No, he would not think about it. Instead, he would push his vehicle. He was close to her now. If she rested for another couple of hours at a minimum, he would be able to catch her before she took off again.

That won't work, his mind reasoned, she does not know you are a vampire. Ah yes, his iridescent skin would be a dead giveaway that he wasn't one of her own kind. Furthermore, her vehicle may not have tinted windows to conceal him during the day, if she were to allow him to travel with her.

Clearly, he had no choice but to follow her from afar. The thought did not sit well with Demetri, but he had no choice. His mate had no idea who or what he was, and even if she permitted his presence after stalking her across the country he wouldn't be capable of keeping his secret for long. That would pose an entirely different issue that would need to be addressed. If that were to be his course of action, then consequently he would have to turn her.

Which he had already decided he wished to wait for.

A light bell-like noise came from that dashboard of his vehicle. Demetri sighed as he noticed that the little light was flashing and he needed to purchase fuel. The light was just beginning to rise above the horizon, if he did so quickly he would be able to refuel and get back on the road long before it would be a risk of exposure to him, and he would have several hundred more miles to travel before having to do so once again, at that point he would either have to pray to the gods for a storm or wait until night fall to continue his journey.

Rapidly cutting over three lanes of traffic, Demetri's car raced up the exit ramp. He hardly stopped at the light before turning right and pulling into the nearest gas station. He worked quickly, almost too quickly for a human, sliding his card into the machine and pumping the gas. He was back on the road in a matter of four minutes.


	6. Chapter Five

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Five

"One step further and I'm calling the Police. Trust me, you won't be going anywhere until they get here if I do."

The blaring noise of a car alarm going off somewhere in the ratty motel parking lot jolted Della awake. Groggy, she lifted herself from the firm, lumpy mattress and stepped up to the window. She quickly pulled the curtain away just an inch to peer out into the lot to make sure it wasn't her Mustang that was going off. The lights were flashing on some Toyota, a couple was outside with their keys trying to shut the alarm off and shouting at each other. Della smiled at the two and turned to settle back into the bed.

Della just nestled herself back into the warm sheets, dreaming of a dark haired stranger who spoke with an Italian accent when she was jolted awake once again.

'TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!'

"Oh for the love of…!" she growled to herself as she rolled over to beat the ever loving technology out of her phone screen. She couldn't remember why she had originally thought it had been a good idea to make that song her alarm. Something more gentle would have been far more appropriate, instead of being jostled awake every morning.

The appearance of her alarm told Della that it was twenty past ten in the morning, and if she wanted to shower before she hit the road again she had best get her ass in gear. Begrudgingly, Della grabbed her bag of toiletries and headed into the small bathroom to the left of her bed. She paused for a second to rake a brush through her tangled rat's nest, then reached into the bathroom to drop her bag on the toilet and start the water.

She had about forty minutes before checkout and she knew she would be using every one of them, so once the water was warm enough she stripped and hastily jumped under the spray. Hours of sitting in a car and driving through traffic jams and around stupid drivers had caused Della's whole body to tense. When she had gotten too tired she'd pulled off just south of Knoxville and pulled into the nearest no-tell motel.

Della had a good run on the highway that first day. She'd stopped more often than her mom would have, since she no longer had a travel trailer and there was no bathroom in her vehicle. She'd also spent a few hours in restaurants to stretch her legs before getting on the road again. With her mom, Della had never spent more than six hours a day on the road. They'd always taken it slow, in order to pull off the interstate if they saw something that interested them. This time around, Della had a destination in mind and she wanted to get there pronto. She figured that if she tried she could do another ten on the road, stopping only a few times, she would make it to her destination.

New Orleans, Louisiana.

The last time she'd been there was just before Lyn had been diagnosed with Lupus. They'd gone for Mardi Gras and stayed until the weather became far too warm for their northerner liking. If she played her cards right, then she could possibly stay for Mardi Gras once again even though it was a little under a month away. She would have to avoid the obvious tourist traps and make sure she stayed in a camp near the Gulf of Mexico, so she could swim often and it would be cheaper than a motel. She had plenty of money to last a while, probably five months if she was careful on how much she ate. She'd paid car insurance on the Mustang for a whole year so she wouldn't owe on that for a while.

Della continued her musings as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Without meaning too, her mind drifted back to the dark haired Demetri and a small smile formed on her lips. She had been thinking about him almost non-stop since she met him. Hell, Della had even had a race-y dream about him in the no-tell motel. His dark brown eyes, clearly contacts but she couldn't decide what the actual color of them might be, his delicious looking lips and especially his posh Italian accent. Yes, it had been a good dream.

Quite frankly, her thoughts of him were far from civilized.

'Stop it.' Della reasoned in her mind, 'You left him behind and didn't get a number. You don't even want a relationship.'

Ha, that didn't mean anything. By the looks of Demetri that guy was as far from relationship oriented as one could get.

'Don't judge a book by its cover, Della.' Her mind shot back at her.

Whose side was her mind on, anyways? Men were disgusting pigs, completely untrustworthy. Della had never been one for guys, especially after what had happened in New York when she was eleven. She'd been more of a love them and leave them type since she was old enough to date. Not that there had been many of those, either.

"Who argues with themselves in their own head?" Della asked out loud as she brushed on some mascara in an attempt to make herself look a little more put together, at least.

Once dressed she tossed her still wet hair into a loose bun and threw everything she'd brought in with her back in her bag. She walked the bag outside to her Mustang and was glad to see that nothing had happened to the shining black beauty while she slept. When she'd tossed the bag into the car and locked up she walked back into her room and pulled the sheets and pillowcases from the bed, piling everything on top. She grasped the towels she used and placed them in a small pile by the door and tied up the trash bags, tossing them by the towels. When she was done she gave the room a once over to be sure that she hadn't missed anything and tossed a five-dollar bill on the dresser with a note.

Housekeeping,

This is for you; sorry I couldn't do more. Have a good day!

She knew that some would think it was weird, to tip the housekeeping staff at a motel after doing a portion of the work for them. It was something her Mom had always done when they actually rented a room. Lyn had explained that there were certain things that hotel maids saw on a daily basis that she hoped to never see in her lifetime. The knowledge had come from her Grams, Katherine, who had been a housekeeper in Detroit for thirty years before she took an early retirement due to a knee surgery that went terribly wrong. Grams had cleaned for a hotel since she was twenty and cleaned houses on the side, since she was thirteen, starting out as a way to bring income into her family's home during the depression.

Della had never met her Grandma Kathy. She had passed away from a brain aneurysm three years before Della had been born. The only way Della had been able to get to know who that woman was came through the massive amounts of pictures that had been taken while she was alive. Once it was explained to Della that all the pictures that were lined on the walls of the travel trailer were taken by her Grandmother, whom was an angel watching over her, Della quickly took up the hobby for herself.

Della knew she would regret leaving all of those pictures behind for Mary, who wouldn't appreciate them. In fact, Mary would probably burn them all in the fireplace the first time she was unable to pay the electricity bill.

Frowning at the direction her thoughts had taken her, Della snatched up her car keys and the room key. Thunder clapped outside and she quickly decided it would be best not to dawdle. She looked up at the massive dark clouds as they rolled in slowly. Usually she wouldn't mind the rain but she didn't know how the Mustang would drive on wet roads. The only consolation she got was the fact that she was far enough south that the falling droplets wouldn't be freezing over any time soon.

The door to the front office rang as Della opened it. She smiled at the clerk and placed the keys on the desk before hastily retreating as the man's beady eyes roved up and down her body. Della was a bit disgusted as she walked through the parking lot, towards her mustang. It wasn't the first time a male had done something so outwardly sickening and sadly it probably wouldn't be the last.

She couldn't stop herself from thinking about the fact that Demetri hadn't done that.

While walking to her car she passed a shiny new looking BMW in the parking lot. She almost snorted at the irony of a BMW being in a cheap motel parking lot and wondered why the owner would be in this run down place. Surely if one can afford a car like that then they could afford the Hampton for the night or something. Laughing and shaking her head at the car she quickly made it to the mustang and plopped herself inside. She would find something to eat in a drive through and gas up before she hit the highway once again.

Louisiana, here I come.

~.~.~.~

It took Della only eleven hours with several stops before she was pulling into another motel parking lot. There had been several spots of cloudy and rain filled weather but the mustang had handled the roads like a champ. Her body felt exhausted as she slumped into the room she rented for two days and practically body slammed the bed. She figured that she would relax from all the driving tonight and look for some sort of camp ground that allowed tents the next morning, it would be nice to stay in hotels the entire time but there were two reasons that would not work out for.

Reason number one: they costed too much money! She would run out of cash in less than a month if she were to stay in even the cheapest of hotels/motels, and she would rather not dip into the money that Gramps had left her.

Reason number two: She liked camping. It was freeing, and although it's not exactly 'roughing it' and living off the land it was close enough to be comfortable. She had spent too much time in the city in recent years, sleeping in a tent in the woods would do her some good. So what if there was running water and working showers in most camps?

Her stomach growled and Della groaned, pushing herself off the bed. She had literally zero ambition to drive again for another day or so. Luckily, she was close enough to the French Quarter that she could walk somewhere for food.

Grabbing her over the shoulder bag and a pull over a hoodie that clearly showed she was a Michigan Wolverines fan Della left her room, making sure the door was locked behind her. She followed the sidewalk to the left of her as she made her way towards the sound of jazz bands and civilization. The sun had been set for a while now, but the quarter was alight with businesses and bustling shoppers. Memories of the last time she was in New Orleans assaulted her senses and she smiled widely.

"Della, look!" Lyn called out to her thirteen-year-old daughter as she pointed towards the parade.

There was a clown that was at least ten feet in the air and Della's eyes grew wide as she tugged on her mom's arm, grinning widely. It wasn't the first time she'd witnessed someone walking on stilts, but it never seemed to amaze her whenever she saw it. Della couldn't imagine the balance the person would have had to have to walk on two sticks that were taller than they themselves where.

"I wanna try it." Della had laughed, blue eyes looking up at the clown admirably.

"You can join a circus one day, if that's what you want, and then you can try it." Lyn's eyes sparkled in the night time lights of the city, "You'll probably fall flat on your face though."

Della giggled, "Probably, but that just means that I'll have to try again."

Smiling at the memory, Della took a turn down on Bourbon street and then turned onto St. Peter's street towards a restaurant that her Mom had taken her too when they were here. Sometimes Della was grateful she had a pretty decent memory. She could see The Gumbo Shop just down the road a piece from where she was walking. The building was much as she had remembered it, in a classic New Orleans (or French, if we're being technical here) style building and the distinct ambiance that radiated from it. The only thing she could see that was different was the paint and perhaps some new siding. Looking around her she was able to note that there were actually many differences.

Of course, she thought, hurricane Katrina. She'd almost forgotten that the area had been decimated by the hurricane.

She was almost to her destination when she heard something to her left.

It sounded like a whimper.

Della turned her head and looked down an alley way to her right. There were three figures, one distinctly feminine. The other two were clearly cornering the woman and their shadowed figures loomed threateningly in the dimly lit alley way. There were only a few people on the side walk and none of them had seemed to notice what was happening and kept moving, or they simply hadn't cared. Della paused and watched for a moment, deciding whether or not it was a situation that required assistance. Della quickly hid on the side of the building, so not to draw attention to herself, and listened.

"Come on girl, you're coming with us," A male voice stated, inching closer to the woman.

"Please, just take my money. I don't have much but y-you c-can have it."

One of the males moved closer, Della had heard enough in those sentences to understand what was happening. She took her mace from her bag, placed it in her hoodie pocket and stepped into the dark alley, quietly moving closer to the scene. No one noticed her, so she edged closer until she was a mere six feet away from the men and their would-be victim.

"I suggest you move on, boys, and leave the lady alone," Della called out, cell phone dialed to 911 in her left pocked and the mace gripped tightly in her hand hidden in her pocket. It wouldn't take much for her to call the police, she just hoped that these two weren't experienced fighters. She may have seven years of martial arts training, but she had her own limitations.

She mentally cursed herself for not applying herself more and achieving her black belt.

One of the men swiveled around while the other kept his gaze planted firmly on the woman who was backed into the corner, now that she was closer she could see his face. She focused on memorizing it, every disgusting but distinguishing crevice and scar, his eye shape, hair style and color, everything that would help the police identify the guy if they ran like Della hoped they would.

"Look what we have here, Jess, a fiery red head! You got some nerve, girl. Tell me, does the carpet match the drapes?" He asked in a voice that grated on Della's nerves, advancing slowly.

Della whipped out her can of mace so fast that the guy had no idea what had happened until he'd already felt the keen sting of the stuff in his eyes. "Ow, FUCK. Jess, get this bitch!" The man called to his companion. The other man, Jess, left his position blocking the woman in the corner and stalked over to where Della was standing, holding the can of mace out like a weapon.

"Y'all might be more trouble then you're worth," Jess grumbled, staring at the can of mace but taking up a fighting stance all the same.

"One step further and I'm calling the Police. Trust me, you won't be going anywhere until they get here if I do," Della stated in an attempt to thwart their advances, her face fierce but her nerves going haywire. She felt like she was going to fall flat on her ass and these guys were going to kill her, but she could let that happen. She was staring death in the face, and it was not an option. She looked the one standing in front of her dead in the eyes with determination to survive this night, "The way I see it; you have two options. One, I'll let you go and if I see you again I'll turn you in. Two, you can try to attack me or hurt the girl behind you and I will call the Police and you will go to jail. The decision is yours, boys." She wondered why she didn't call the cops before confronting the men. Stupid.

The man that Della had mace-d rubbed his irritated red eyes (which, truth be told, only made the sting worse) and squinted defiantly at the red haired woman that stood in their way. "We're gonna kill you, bitch," he stated before he lunged towards her. Time seemed to slow considerably and Delphia was seeing the situation as if it were in a play by play recap of a sports event. All Della thought was; Thank God they don't have a gun! The woman who had been cowered in the corner of the building and a fence stood and ran down the alley, back to the streets without so much as a word to Della, not even calling for help as she went.

Della couldn't help herself but think: Damn, really? So much for camaraderie. As she saw the woman go.

The man who was lunging towards her almost growled at his partner to go after the girl, but the partner didn't move. Della side stepped the man, Jess, just as he got close and turned to face him once again. He was rather fast, for a larger built guy, and quickly turned to clock her, what happened next shocked Della to her core. The man had almost hit her before she could side step once again and maneuver so that he might get his feet knocked from under him, but was suddenly stopped as his fist rammed into something akin to a brick wall, his yell of pain cut short by a pale hand that closed around his throat.

A dark figure stood directly in between Della and the attacker. The stranger's back was a mere two inches from her, creating a body shield against any threat from the front. A heavily accented voice filled the tense air, "Charging towards Miss Payne in a threatening manner was your second mistake, gentleman." The dark figure threw the man to the ground, a few echoing crunches filled the air as the man then cried out in further pain, "Your first mistake was even contemplating it."

Della instantly recognized the voice, she couldn't get it out of her head since she had met him. It didn't even occur to her at first that it was strange that he was here, or that he'd just appeared out of nowhere when she may have needed a bit of rescuing. All she could think was; Nicely played, God.

"Demetri?" She asked tentatively.

The man turned his head so she could see half of his face with the light from the main street and confirmed her suspicions. He gave her a half smile that did not reach his eyes while the man on the ground was struggling to right himself with the help of his companion. "Good Evening, Miss Pane."

"Uh, not that I'm ungrateful for, you know, saving me from a nice big knuckle sandwich and all but what exactly are you doing?" Della inquired, eloquent as ever.

Demetri's face darkened considerably as he growled, actually growled, "Debating on how I will kill these men."

A shiver, a warning sign of danger, flew up Della's spine in that exact moment. The baby hairs on the back of her neck raised as did the goosebumps on her arms. Della's instinct was telling her that Demetri could, and more than likely would, kill both of these men. She didn't know why her instincts were telling her that this man before her, who had saved her from being punched in the face, was capable of murder, but they did. After a moment of contemplation, Della decided that she should probably stop that from happening.

"Please don't kill them, Demetri, let me call the cops so they can go to jail," she tried to reason with him. His face was stoic but his eyes held a raw and angry power to them. In the darkness of the alley way his eyes looked black, instead of the brown she knew them to be. He stood like a statue as his eyes looked unblinkingly at her. He didn't even seem to be breathing. Della didn't know why, but she felt like he needed something, anything, to calm him from his silent anger before something was done that couldn't be undone. Tentatively she placed a hand on his clothed arm, "Murder is illegal, let me handle it."

A sharp nod was all she received in response and she instantly felt her instincts calm a fraction as she pressed the call button on her phone and reported the incident. Demetri was glaring down at the men who were no longer giving any trouble. It was almost like the instinctual fear that she had felt, they were also feeling. Demetri had a dangerous aura practically radiating from him.

Christ, she needed a cigarette.

Della shifted through her purse once she hung up the phone and lit one. Her frazzled nerves instantly calmed as she took a seat on the stairs of the fire escape to the right of her. "The cops should be here in a couple of minutes. Did you see where that girl went?" Della asked Demetri.

He nodded, "The young woman who left you after you so graciously put your life in peril to protect her, sprinted towards the downtown area. I suspect that she headed home."

"Well, at least she's safe then," Della sighed, taking two hits off her cigarette before putting it out on the step and flicking it away. She was trying to quit, after all. Still, her lighter remained in her hand as she casually flicked it open and closed lighting and extinguishing the flame.

Demetri growled once again, "I cannot condone such behavior. There was once a time when individuals would come together during matters such as these. It was cowardly of her to race away at the first opportunity, allowing the odds of victory to reduce against her one and only defender."

Della shrugged, "She was afraid, fear is a powerful motivator. I could have handled these goons but I probably would have been roughed up by the end of it. Thank you, by the way."

"It is my pleasure, Miss Payne," Demetri stated, she still couldn't see him properly but he was standing only a few feet in front of the men who were crying, pleading with Demetri to let them go. Demetri was completely ignoring them, not even looking at them. Instead, he faced Della. Yet, the men did not try to run.

"Just call me Della," she said as a police cruiser pulled into the alleyway.

After the statements were taken and the two were placed in the cruiser, the cops notified Della and Demetri that there had been multiple reports of muggings and rapes over the past two months in the French Quarter. The two men fit the descriptions that they had collected of the ones who had committed previous crimes and kept giving the police the run about. There was enough evidence against them to put them in federal prison for twenty-five years to life. Demetri had stated that they deserved death, the police hadn't disagreed and stated that there was a slight probability that the men could be ordered the death penalty as a result of over ten rape allegations that were stacked against the both of them.

When the police pulled out of the alley and were gone, Demetri was staring at Della once again. Feeling a bit scrutinized she looked him dead in the eyes, noting in the street lights that they were indeed black at the moment. She looked down at her phone clock and saw that it was now long passed eleven at night and groaned, the Gumbo Shop was closed now and she was still hungry.

"What ails you?" Demetri asked, his eyes just a bit wider than they had been before.

Della laughed, shaking her head, "I left my motel room to get something to eat. The place I was on my way to down the road is closed now. I shouldn't even be hungry still after all of that!"

Demetri offered a half smile and his left arm, "I will take you to obtain whatever cuisine you desire."

Della draped her hand through his left arm as he led her down the street once more. He led her up a ramp into a parking garage and up to a shiny black BMW, one that looked strangely familiar to her. "Um, Demetri?" Della stated as he opened the passenger side door for her. She didn't get in right away, instead she stared at him as the pieces seemed to be falling together and the suspicion that hadn't quite manifested in the alley was now assaulting her in full force.

"Yes, diletto?"

"Were you following me?" Della raised her eyebrow in question. She knew she couldn't run from him if she tried, he was fast enough to come out of nowhere and stand in front of a flying fist. There was no way she could get away if he had malicious intent. Had he come to her aid, simply to do more damage himself? Was that who he was?

If she got in this car, what would her fate become?

"Si." He nodded once, his eyes never leaving hers.

She gulped visibly, "Why?" Why was she not afraid of him, why had she so easily walked down the road with a man that had obviously followed her to New Orleans from fucking Detroit? It didn't make sense, it was suicide, and yet she couldn't help but feel safe.

What was this shit?

"I feel as though I was meant to find you, Delphia. I apologize for my forwardness, but I cannot risk denying myself the pleasure of knowing you, if you would allow it. When I found that you had left the day after we had met, I wished only to find you again." His eyes were burning into hers, and Christ, his eyes looked so lonely and dejected. It wasn't the look he was giving her, but the depths of something unnamed in his eyes that told her no harm would come to her if she were to give him this chance that he was asking for.

It scared the absolute shit out of her that she was doing this, but she had one question to get out of the way before she would allow herself to get into this man's car. Even though she felt that he wouldn't harm her, she was still rather freaked that he'd followed her and her brain was telling her heart to stop directing her movements, but her heart won out as she asked, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Demetri gave her a very serious, and even slightly offended, look as he responded, "I could not harm a single portion of your person, Delphia, I implore you to trust that."

Sighing at her own stupidity, Della got into the car.


	7. Chapter Six

True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Six

"I never want to settle in a single place for long. There's so much to see and I have little time to see these things in."

Demetri was sure to roll the window of his rental vehicle down a bit to allow some of the alluring scent of his mate to float freely from the enclosed space. He was thirsty from his rage at the men he had willingly allowed to live based only on his mates' pleading generosity. He felt that he should have drained them without hesitation, if only to rid the world of their pestilence, though he realized that this night would have gone much differently had he exposed himself to Delphia. Especially in such a volatile manner.

It was clear that Delphia's nerves were rather frazzled as she sat quietly on the passenger side of the vehicle. She had questioned whether he had followed her or not and he replied honestly, wishing not to lie to his mate, for she would find out the truth soon enough and he wished to keep her anger with him when that time came to a minimal. There was no rule book, no How to Court Your True Mate for Dummies 101 that he could consult that would give him the appropriate guidelines for how to go about his situation.

In truth, Demetri was terrified she would run off again knowing that he had followed her. He would, of course, follow her every time she left. How could he not? The only way he would refrain from doing so would be if she told him not to, and even then he might be forced to go against her wishes. He feared the bitter sting of a mate's rejection, if she were request he not follow her, and how that would affect him.

Demetri pulled into a McDonald's at his mate's request, although even he knew that the food was poisonous, and asked Delphia what she would like to eat. Instead of telling him, she unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over his body so that she could order clearly into the speaker. Half of his brain comprehended that she'd ordered two double cheeseburgers with mac sauce only, a large fry, and a large sweet tea and wondered where she could possibly fit all of that in her petite body. The other half of his brain was stuck on the fact that the side of her left breast was brushing his chest in what he felt was an erotic manner. Clearly, Delphia had simply been attempting to order without having to go through a third party, as her specifications for her burgers seemed to be out of the norm, and so Demetri attempted to will the unwanted tightness in his trousers away.

"Sorry," she said as she moved back to her seat and replaced her seatbelt, "it's just easier to tell them myself. Thank you for taking me through the drive thru, though." She pulled some American currency from her bag and handing it to him.

Demetri shook his head at the flimsy green bills and reached for his wallet that was stashed in the center counsel of the vehicle but Delphia placed her hand over his. Her eyes narrowed as she no doubt felt how cold his skin was but nevertheless looked up at him, "I'd feel better if you let me pay for it. You're probably the only reason I'm not in the hospital right now, I think that mandates paying my own way here. Besides, It's only like six bucks."

Against his better judgment, and his internal need to provide for his mate, he took the bill from her hand and paid the clerk. Once he'd been handed the bag of vile smelling genetically manufactured human sustenance and passed it to Della, Demetri pulled out of the drive and towards the motel he knew his mate to be staying at. He himself had paid for a room near hers in the same motel, as revolting as the place was.

Gripping the steering wheel almost too tightly for it to accommodate, Demetri thanked the gods that they had seen fit to allow storms to cover his journey. Every time Delphia had pulled off the highway, he was able to do so as well and refill his waning fuel tank at a gas station across from the one she was using. He kept an eye on her from at least a half mile back, she would have had no idea she was being tailed. Thankfully, he'd been able to catch up with Della at her motel just outside of Knoxville, Tennessee that morning and had rented a room just so he would have a place to park his rental.

Demetri was grateful for having caught up with Della, for had he not he wouldn't have seen such small kind acts she was prone to at every stop she made. For instance, at the diner she stopped in for lunch she took up a seat next to a young mother and her child, asking all sorts of questions and in the end had paid for their meals. At the gas station there was an incredibly short elderly woman, shorter than Delphia if that were possible, who was attempting to clean something off the windshield of her vehicle. Delphia walked right up to her with a smile on her face and offered to help, then pumped the woman's gas for her while she sat in the car after complaining of being chilly in the overcast weather.

When she had reached New Orleans, Demetri had expected her to be exhausted from the trip and remain in her room for the night. He was surprised when he heard her immerge from the room at half past nine and witnessed her walking into the night. He kept to the top of the buildings when following her, Demetri had no intentions of revealing himself that night. In fact, he had no idea how he would reveal himself to her. His mind had conjured several different scenarios where he could casually bump into her by design.

Clearly, the gods had another plan.

He watched in silent horror as she stepped into an alleyway to defend a woman that she did not know. He was both indescribably proud to know of her sense of justice, acknowledging the fact that she would be a spectacular addition to the Volturi when she was ready, and to watch her spray chemicals into the eyes of one of the attackers. Unfortunately, the woman she was defending took the first moment she could and ran like a coward. Demetri let the woman leave, much to concerned with the safety of Delphia than with the woman who left his mate to defend herself alone.

Demetri was awestruck with the resilience and confidence that Delphia had shown in standing her ground against the men and when the man made to attack her. So wrapped up in her determination to avoid being a punching bag, Demetri nearly did not step in to help. Gods knew she didn't look as if she actually needed his intervention.

She was a fierce little human, and he was an indescribably proud vampire.

Demetri pulled into the parking lot of the rundown motel that she had chosen to suit her needs. He couldn't help but run over scenarios in his mind that would end with her agreeing for him to move her to a suite in one of them more… established inns in New Orleans. For him, money was not an issue. Unfortunately, he couldn't see himself coming out on top of an argument for Delphia to cave to his wishes, not yet anyways.

"So, you know where I'm staying, too?" Delphia questioned, her eyebrow raised and eyes glaring accusingly at him, it was a look he would not soon be forgetting.

He nodded slightly, before responding, "I witnessed your vehicle in this particular parking lot and I too procured a room for myself."

Delphia sucked her bottom lip under her teeth and bit lightly. The movement triggered Demetri's memory of the drive thru incident.

That line of thought was thoroughly inappropriate at this time.

"What is the saying…" Demetri pondered, no longer able to take the silence, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Delphia granted him a small smile, "I'm torn."

"What is it that has you in such a state?" Demetri inquired, turning his body as much as he could to look at her while they remained in the vehicle.

Delphia, at first, looked as though she might not answer, but she did. There was a hard edge to her voice, a certain finality that made Demetri contemplate that he'd possibly blown his chance regardless of his stepping in when he was needed. "I feel like I shouldn't trust you. You came out of nowhere and we had an awesome conversation in a bar in Detroit. You followed be across the country, not across the street or even across town, across the country. That's the kind of behavior that gets people locked up. You helped me when I needed someone to help, which leads me to believe you were stalking me as I walked down the street. Not that I'm not grateful for your assistance. I might be in the hospital if it weren't for that, but the fact remains."

She was silent for a moment. He wondered if she was going to tell him to leave, that she was frightened by him and his sudden appearance. But when she looked up from her lap and met his eyes, there was a look of resolution in them he hadn't witnessed in a human in many centuries, "But- there's a large part of me that thinks our paths were meant to cross, and had they not done so the other day then it would have happened in the next few years. Like I said before, I always wanted to go to Italy and travel there. I think we were meant to know each other at some point, but I don't trust easily. My mind is telling me that I should tell you to hit the road, or that I shouldn't have gotten in the car, or I should have told the Police that you stalked me here. But for some crazy fucking reason, and I have no idea what that reason is, I haven't done any of that."

If only she knew the truth, Demetri thought. They were meant to cross paths; they were meant to know each other. They were quite literally destined to each other, two halves of the same whole. The only reason she did not feel the strong connection that he felt was because she wasn't on the same level of existence as he was, but she would be soon. She wasn't running away screaming because a part of her knew that he would never harm her, the instinctual part of her was telling her that he was hers, for eternity. The issue was whether she chose to listen to that part, or the part of logic and reason that she was desperately clinging too. He couldn't fault her for that.

"I can only hope that you do not begrudge me for my behavior. I followed you, yes. I swear to you that I mean you no harm. If you tell me to go, I shall leave." Demetri offered, giving his Delphia the choice. He laid all of the cards in her hands and awaited her answer.

Della nodded and heaved a great sigh, "Come inside, I want to eat. Are you sure you're not hungry? I can share if you want."

She had dodged the statement, but she had also invited him inside the room. He took this to mean she wouldn't resent his stalking of her, as she so put it. Demetri nodded at her question and stepped out of the car. He would have offered to open the door for her but she'd had it opened faster than he could have gotten there at a human pace. They walked into the room where she had the air conditioning set to its highest setting, casting an almost over powering scent of mildew over the room.

Della sat the McDonalds bag and beverage on the small table and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. "Pop a squat, Dem, I'll be there in a sec."

Demetri did as he was bid, though he registered the shortening of his name, "Dem?"

She turned around after drying her hands and, throwing the towel nonchalantly behind her so it landed on the bathroom counter, she grinned. All trace of her former melancholy had vanished from her face in a mere minute. "Yeah," she began as she walked to the table, "Demetri, Dem, nicknames are fun. Plus, Demetri is a bit of a mouthful."

Her eyes lit in mirth and Demetri questioned her sanity as she said under her breath, 'that's what she said.' Another smile found its way to Demetri's lips as he shook his head, the prospect of this twenty-one-year-old human giving him a nickname when no one else had ever dared amused him greatly.

"Has no one ever given you a nickname before?" She questioned as she bit almost furiously into her burger. Her eating habits leaving much to be desired, he watched almost in horror as the burger was devoured in under a minute and she was already unwrapping the second burger.

She looked up from the food before her and met his eyes, her ears and cheeks erupting in a ghastly shade of red that clashed with her hair almost comically as the blood flowed beneath the flesh of her face. He saw every bit of it, and it was completely enthralling as the song that the blood sang to him called alluringly from beneath her cheeks. He gazed almost dotingly at her pulse, so much so that he nearly forgot why she was embarrassed, not to mention the reason he did not wish to turn her just yet, in the first place.

"Oh my God, did I just devour that in front of you? I am so sorry you saw that, sometimes when I'm ravenous I rip into my food like a wolf that's been starved for days." She explained rapidly.

Demetri laughed, loudly. A sound that he'd not heard from himself in centuries. He was sure Felix would pay to see this moment, not for Delphia's embarrassment but for his friend's subsequent mirth. "That was an absolutely disgusting display of human consumption, though it was impressive." Demetri winked as his laughter died but he caught Delphia smiling at him and continued with an answering smirk, "to answer your question, Demetri is actually a diminutive version of my original, one that I took for myself when I realized that Demetrius was much too long and outdated. I have had this name for many years."

"Hm." Delphia pondered, "So how old are you, anyways?"

"Older than the dirt beneath our feet." Demetri grinned at his own sparkling wit.

Della snorted, "And yet you don't look a day over twenty-five!"

"Well," Demetri began, ignoring her sarcasm. "I would have to say I am perhaps closer to thirty. I haven't kept track of my age in quite some time."

He was doing his best not to lie to his mate. He clearly wasn't being completely forthcoming, if he did she would run off again and he would have to track her down. He would rather not be inconvenienced in such a way, but he would follow her until he had the ability to reason with her. At the moment he was attempting to establish trust with his Delphia so that she would allow him to accompany her if she were to pack up and take off.

If she did leave once more then he would have no choice but to tell her what he is and why they were drawn together, because he'd only been given two months' leave from the Volturi, and he had already torn through ten days of that time. Demetri doubted that Aro would be so generous as to grant an extension. In fact, Aro more than likely would have preferred Demetri turned Della the night he found her and haul her body back to Volterra during her transitional stage.

"You don't know when your birthday is?" She questioned, the second half of her second burger abandoned as she munched on several fries at once. She looked saddened by the idea that he didn't know his own birthday, when in truth most vampires from only a couple centuries previous and further didn't recall the time of their birth, nor the season they may have been born in. Birthdays for the common folk were a fairly new celebration.

It was in that moment that Demetri felt his dead heart twitch and he realized how human his mate was. That something never even thought of in a vampire's lifetime could trigger sympathy and emotion. He wondered briefly if all humans were compassionate to a fault or if it was simply a characteristic of his Della.

"No, I do not. Do you mind if I tell you my life story another time, Della? I would much like to hear about you." He asked, trying to put his mind at ease for the time being. His growing hunger was beginning to get the best of him and he couldn't allow that to happen in the presence of his very human and delectable mate.

Della shrugged, "There's not really much to know about me, I'm just Delphia from Detroit."

"I highly doubt that 'just Delphia from Detroit' is all that you are."

"Fine, have it your way then," she teased, "I was born to a Miss Evelyn Payne and an unknown father on June 6th of 1994. The first memories I have are of my mom and I on the road and traveling. We'd been practically everywhere in the continental U.S. and even in some parts of Canada when all you needed was a U.S. ID to get in. In 2008, Mom was diagnosed with Lupus and she died in 2010 when I was a sophomore in high school. I haven't done all that much since, really. I've been taking classes at the local college. I'm still doing my coursework online and when this semester is done I'll be taking a break for a while."

"I am sorry to hear about your Mother." Demetri stated sincerely, and then after a pause he persisted, "Do you wish to continue your education?"

"In all honesty, I never wanted to go to college in the first place. I wanted to get back out on the road and travel like I had when I was younger but I couldn't leave my Gramps at the time. He's gone too now so I decided that it would be best to leave everything behind and pursue my actual dreams." She admitted, throwing the empty food wrappers in their bag and tossing them into the trashcan nearest her.

"What are your dreams, diletto?"

"I want to travel, for as long as I live." A burning passion lit her expression, causing Demetri to become riveted by her next words. "I never want to settle in a single place for long. There's so much to see and I have little time to see these things in. I don't want a career to hold me back. I don't want to drag children around with me when I know there's a good chance they wouldn't want a life with very little stability. Someday, when I am old and can no longer sustain the life that I have lived, I would like to rent a boat and get lost at sea. But before that, I'd like to write a book at the end of my lifetime, detailing my adventures. Because that's what my life will inevitably be if I live the way I've planned, one giant adventure."

Demetri could not stop the next words from escaping his lips, even though he realized that it could have given him away had Delphia already begun to put certain aspects of him together with whatever it was she knew of modern horror stories and myths, "And what if you were to become immortal?"

Thankfully, Della took this as a scenario and not a probability as she pondered her response. She was quiet for a minute as she thought about it and chewed her bottom lip while her eyes glanced over his face.

"To be completely honest, if such a thing as immortality were to exist I would think that it would be an indescribably lonely and bitter existence, I call it and existence because that's all that it would be. Those with this ability would not be living, they would be going through the motions. Life would become stale, and boring. I have a maximum of a hundred years to spend wandering the earth, which I believe allows me to see that the world is beautiful, and life is eternal even without a single body remaining on the planet for millennia." She paused suddenly and pursed her lips, "But to answer your question, if I were to become an immortal then I would more than likely never stop in one place for more than a year or two. Time would forever be passing me by and I would want to witness as much history as it happened. Until nuclear war clears the earth, that is, like I'm sure it eventually will."

Delphia stopped for a moment and picked up her beverage, taking a long drink from the sweet smelling liquid. When she released the straw she smiled over at Demetri as he sat pondering what she had stated, "What about you?"

Demetri had to stop himself from laughing outright.

"I must say that I agree with you, Delphia. Immortality would be both a gift and a curse. One would be capable of watching regimes rise and fall, witnessing the changes to the world in mere decades as if they were only days passing one by. Though with all of the fantastic happenings, a dozen lifetimes would grow bitter and lonely, as you stated. Until, of course, a mate was found, and then the happiness would slowly seep back into the life of the immortal. Colors would once again have meaning, days would no longer pass in a blur of time."

Della looked puzzled, "Mate?"

Demetri smiled adoringly at her, even though he wanted to keep most of the information about himself from spilling over he couldn't help but provide her with hints that would aid her in understanding him before he was forced to tell her the truth about himself. He thought that, perhaps, if she was to being to understand before she was told then it would be easier for her to comprehend.

"Of course, do you think the gods would allow an immortal being to walk the earth alone for eternity without company?"

"Mates though, like with animals?" she questioned, her voice sounding a bit off.

Delphia's eyes were drooping when he looked into them. She was obviously tired, and it was nearly one in the morning. He supposed that after her travel her human body required rest. He smiled devilishly at her and stood from the chair he'd been in. "I can see that you grow tired. Please, get some rest, I am three doors to the right of you if you need me." Demetri wrote his number on one of the napkins that were in her bag from the restaurant and then stood, walking over to her and lifting her hand he placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, "Do not hesitate to contact me at any time."

"Okay. Thanks for saving me from getting my face punched in. I really need to stop getting into fights." She said sleepily as he opened the door and walked through.

"I would be most grateful if you would refrain from brawling, myself." Demetri stated, "Goodnight, diletto. Vi prego di non lasciare di nuovo."

~.~.~.~

A few hours after he'd left Della to sleep Demetri stood on the top of the largest building in New Orleans, looking out into the darkness of the night illuminated only by the ever glowing business of the city. It was troubling that in recent times it seemed that humans almost refused to live without their modern electricity. Even out in the wilderness it seemed that someone had a light on in their home. Demetri longed for the days when the night was dark until the sun rose over the horizon. Back when the air was cleaner and the humans were far filthier.

Then again, modern plumbing and motor vehicles. He supposed filthy oxygen was a good tradeoff for cleaner bodies, running water, and fast transportation. At least the acrid smell of fecal matter no longer covered the bodies of his meals.

It had been quite some time since the Volturi had inspected the covens of the Southern United States, the territory that covered the expanse of Alabama through Arizona, going north as far as the top of Oklahoma. The word that had reached Italy was that the covens had finally established a treaty in the mid-1900s and were living within the territories that they had conquered. Now that the humans had the technology that they had created, the southern vampire armies had quelled their fury and power grabs for the time being. That, and they hoped not to draw Volturi involvement after their last battle with the vampire Kings. Regardless of how formidable their armies had been against the Volturi, nothing short of divine intervention could save these covens if they were to break the law and garner the wrath of the Volturi, again.

His Volturi necklace hung on full display around his neck with the pendant resting comfortably on his chest, it was a symbol of who he was; worn as a reminder to the local vampires. Demetri was not standing at the top of the building for the sights, but so he would not offend the residing coven by not revealing himself on his personal visit. Such behavior would shame the Volturi.

Vampire etiquette, such a tedious affair. Demetri thought as he noted the presence of another vampire land on the roof.

"What business does the Volturi's best hunting dog have here?" A woman's voice asked sharply from behind him.

Demetri turned and looked at the vampire almost condescendingly, asserting his rank and prestige in one look mirrored by one sentence. "You would do well to remember to whom you speak, Madame Laveau."

She hadn't changed much since his last visit to the city, she looked just like what a portrait of Madame Marie Catherine Laveau looked like back in 1800s New Orleans. Clearly, the Madame refused to stay up to date with modern dress. Demetri wondered briefly if she even walked in her own city any more, of if she simply remained indoors and let her coven do the monitoring for her since the treaty had stopped the vampire wars and the city had become a major tourist attraction.

Truly, Madame Laveau hated the Volturi more so than most others did, not that she was forthcoming with her opinion. She had been turned by Aro after Jane had witnessed Laveau preforming what the locals called a 'Voodoo ritual' during one of the Volturi's visits. Aro, thinking that some of this unknown power would transfer into her life as a vampire, turned her a few nights later and dragged her back to Italy by boat. When it became apparent that Laveau would not retain her human abilities as a vampire, she was allowed to leave the Volturi, and so she set out to travel back to her homeland.

Unfortunately for Aro, and the Volturi, once Marie was back on her home grounds she seemed to easily regain a semblance of her lost power. Demetri had been the first Aro sent to Africa, Marie's ethnic homeland, to gather information on this peculiar magic. He quickly learnt that this form of magic required assistance from a spiritual plane, and thus Marie's power had to do with her own ancestral and concentrated grounds. In order to truly utilize her gift, she was forced to remain in New Orleans for her to have any real effect. To say Aro was displeased was the understatement of that particular decade, as he'd wanted her powers for his arsenal.

It was Laveau's power that had been the catalyst for the rest of the warring Covens leaving the New Orleans coven to themselves, even before the treaty was written. Marie Laveau was a formidable fighter on her own soil, with her ancestors to aid her, and thus she was able to flourish and build for herself an empire, and defend her home territory.

Demetri had no idea how much stronger she may have become in the past century since they had last crossed paths, but he knew Laveau would take no action against the Volturi, despite how she felt about them. She more than most knew of the consequences of such actions. In fact, she was quite the magistrate in her own territory and held good standing with Aro for her protective measures, even if the relation was somewhat strained. If the Vampire world were to have a regional sheriff, Marie Laveau would have easily earned that title.

Laveau bowed her head just slightly in a show of submission to the higher vampire before raising it once again, "Forgive me, at times I forget my manners. What can we do for you, Demetri?"

"I am merely here for a time, on a short respite from my duties. I doubt my presence will be much noticed, Madame." Demetri assured, turning back around to face the night sky.

Madame Laveau came to stand beside him, looking down over the city itself. "I trust everything is well in Volterra?"

Demetri internally sighed at the formal question. What the Madame was actually asking was 'They haven't found a replacement for you, have they?'. "Business as usual," he responded casually. It was known fact that Demetri never took break of his duties. The fact that he was doing so now would draw attention. Attention that he did not want, especially not while Delphia was still human and easily killed.

The last thing Demetri needed was a coven of vampires finding out about and then becoming hell bent on killing his mate. He wished to himself that Della hadn't chosen this particular city. Or any large Southern City. Or the South, period. His prestige may, for once in his atrociously long lifetime, become a hindrance to him if there was a coven with the audacity enough to oppose him.

A vampire could not survive after having known their mate. The only known survivor of a lost true mate had been Marcus, and Aro had gone to great lengths to keep him alive, though the king himself was barely a shell of what the eldest of their kind can remember him to be. Demetri could name at least five vampires who would come far and wide for a chance to end the existence of Demetri Volturi if it were possible, since a staple of the Volturi has always been that they cannot be evaded for long. The loss of Demetri would signify a massive weakness for the Volturi should they not find an adequate replacement in time.

Quite a bit rested on the fact that secrecy, along with the safety of Delphia, was an utmost priority not only to Demetri, but to the Volturi coven. Though Demetri himself was a formidable fighter and held no worry for his own abilities, he knew better than to allow his ego to overshadow his foresight. Any vampire willing to attempt the murder of a Volturi's human mate would suffer the wrath of not only that particular Volturi, but of the entire organization, and that might be enough to stave off the curiosity of the most audacious of vampires.

Still, Demetri worried if word got to the Romanians, and vowed to keep an eye on their whereabouts just to be sure.

"I am sure that I do not need to caution you, of all vampires, but I must ask that you only feed from the homeless while you are here, and please dump the corpses deep within the bayou for the alligators. We are trying to keep suspicion down for now. A duo of nomads came through recently that stirred up trouble with the local authorities, we've done away with them, of course, so there is no cause for alarm." Laveau stated, breaking the silence just the subtle lightness of dawn was beginning to show over the horizon.

Demetri nodded slightly, "I will maintain utmost caution in your territory."

"Oh, and before I forget, please do not feed from the locals. We are still recovering from the hurricane that decimated this area a decade ago, since then we have not tasted blood from any New Orleans native."

"You have my word." Demetri responded, before jumping from the building and making way back to Delphia.


	8. Chapter Seven

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Seven**

" _I've already told you my life story, what else could you possibly want to know?"_

 

" _Delphia."_

A voice called to her in the middle of her sleep. She shooed it away, rolling over in an attempt to return to her dreams. Not that she wanted to relive the nightmarish events of walking down the street in New Orleans in search of something to stuff her face with and ending up in a fight. No, she just wanted to see dream Demetri again. Preferably shirtless this time.

"Delphia."

Something poked her gently in the side and Della swiped her hand to shoo it away, her skin making contact with something solid and icy. Her eyes shot open and she stared into the chocolate brown contacts of Demetri. His beautiful face was stretched wide with a look of mirth that reached his eyes as he loomed over her. Della did what any other person would do in her position.

She wished she could have said she grabbed his far too expensive shirt and crashed his lips to hers but that didn't happen. Of course not, Della was not _that_ with it in the mornings. Della, in that moment, screamed bloody murder.

Demetri looked absolutely shocked and he moved backwards rapidly as if she had smacked him. The hurt look that flashed across his features forced Della's heart to free fall into the pit of her stomach. His expression changed rapidly, showcasing a great many emotions that surged with a sudden ferocity that she thought he might make a run for it. Stricken with something she only recognized as an emotion close to grief, Della instantly begin apologizing in hopes of bring the carefree and cheerful smile back to his face.

"Oh Christ, I'm so sorry. You freaked me out, I've never had a face that close to me when I woke up before. I'm surprised I didn't hit you, to be honest. Are you okay?" she asked in a rush, the words coming out so closely after each other that it would be difficult for most people to identify what she had said.

Clearly not having an issue understanding her statement, Demetri's expression changed and his face showed hints of a smile once again, although faint. Della was relieved as he walked over to the table and sat in the chair that he had occupied the night before, motioning towards a bag that was sitting in the middle.

"It is quite alright; I apologize for startling you. I hope you don't mind but I have taken the liberty of obtaining your breakfast."

Della nodded and swung the covers back to allow herself out of the warm bed. "Give me a sec." Stumbling her way into the bathroom, Della flicked the light switch and the overhead fan on so that Demetri wouldn't be able to hear her use the restroom while he sat not twenty feet away from it, that would be embarrassing. When she was done she washed her hands and turned to him. "So, how'd you get in here anyways?" she inquired as she took a seat in the remaining chair.

"I apprehended one of your room keys before I took my leave last night." Demetri stated as calmly as if he were pointing out that it was sunny outside.

"Not that I don't appreciate breakfast, because let's be real here food is love and this looks _delicious_ , but you can't just walk in here unannounced. What if I had been naked and doing, I don't know, the Macarena or something?"

Slowly Demetri's lips stretched upwards, his eyes crinkling in the corners just slightly as a wicked grin touched his features. Words were not needed to know what he might have been thinking in that moment. Della pointed her right index finger at him and, in a mock stern voice, stated accusingly, "Those are bad thoughts, mister."

Demetri chuckled, the sound was close to what she knew thunder in the distance to sound like as a storm rolled in, "They are not my worst, I can assure you."

Deciding that a change of subject was in order, because there was no way she could easily take such a beautiful accent, man, and innuendo this early in the morning without further impiety, Della asked, "So, did you already eat?"

Delphia had just realized that Demetri had never eaten in her presence. Not only had he not eaten, but he'd had trouble with his drink in the bar several days ago. Thinking about it, she began to make a small list of oddities that made up this beautiful being in front of her. Starting with the fact that his skin was freezing, she wondered if he had some sort of condition and prayed that it wasn't cancer or something equally dilapidating. She'd hated to see someone suffering, especially someone like Demetri, who had obviously been through a lot in his years, however many they may be.

If it didn't hurt him, she hoped to help him eat something for his sake if that be the case.

"I've already acquired nutrition for this day, _diletto_."

Della simply nodded and decided to bring it up another day, taking quick note of his eloquence. Outside of movies from decades past and old novels, Delphia had never heard someone speak in this way other than when she jokingly did so with Herman. She loved this manner of refined speaking, but it was odd for someone in their mid-twenties to do so every moment words exited their mouth. She wondered if this was how Italians were taught English, or if it was just him and his way of articulating. For a moment she entertained the idea of asking him, but decided to continue making a mental list of Demetri's idiosyncrasies to bring up at another time, when she'd gathered more information.

She ate the waffles he'd brought for her as she pondered. He wasn't talking, and she didn't feel the need to either. She felt as though his eyes never left her while she ate, her head bowed over her plate and posture surely leaving much to be desired. She knew she wasn't graceful when she ate but hadn't ever really cared about table manners, as long as she didn't snicker during her Gramps' prayers or belch at the table then she figured she was doing all right. Tossing the used plastic ware in the trash can behind her when she was done, Della once again turned to look at Demetri, "How much do I owe you for breakfast?"

"Not a penny, I have gathered your meal as an apology of sorts for pursuing you without consent."

"My acceptance of your apology is in pending," Delphia grinned at him, "You're not getting away with it that easily."

Demetri's eyes flashed again, this time he didn't look wounded. Instead there was a playful glint in his eyes that cause Della's body to feel as though liquid fire was erupting and coursing through her veins. She let out a shudder of breath, he looked too good. The way his dress shirt hugged against his lithe form and his dress pants were tightened on his hips as he sat, he'd crossed his legs and reclined just enough so that his torso was angled slightly backwards, one elbow rested on the arm of the chair and his fist resting against his face while the other arm was draped casually across his stomach. Giving off a sort of aristocratic yet relaxed look. He looked like an angel, with his dark and hooded eyes staring at her like he would give her the whole world, she need only ask for it. Her mind was giving her body the most unattractive images she could manage in order to calm her own reactions to the man before her. _Fight it,_ Della told herself, _if you sleep with him you'll be gone again before he knows what hit him._

Unaware of the internal battle Della was fighting, Demetri spoke, "I eagerly await your forgiveness, Della, in the meantime I should like to learn more about you."

Della, still trying very hard to banish her earlier ponderings from her head, willed her voice to remain steady as she responded, "I've already told you my life story, what else could you possibly want to know?"

"Everything." Demetri specified, his face was set in a way that made Della realize that he was not joking. He wanted to know every detail, she was rather shocked if she was being honest with herself. Usually when men showed interest in her it wasn't for her _history_. Men simply wanted a romp, and at times she willingly gave into that urge. Clearly, he had not followed her across the country simply to get laid, that she knew. She could feel a deeper sort of connection in the works that seemed to pull on her very soul, not just her loins.

She stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought casting a silence that was rather deafening. She wondered if it would be to invasive for her to ask him of his life, his dreams, goals, and aspirations. From what she had learnt the night before, he had a complicated past. He didn't know his own birthday, and that lead her to believe he may not have known his parents or his family just may not have cared. He seemed to have money, but how had he gotten it? What was his occupation, to have such nice clothing and be driving a rental BMW across country? She was trying to trust that he wouldn't hurt her, but she understood nothing of him other than his obvious intellect and graceful mannerisms.

"Actually, Dem, would you mind telling me a bit about yourself, first? Like, what's your last name, where do you work, stuff like that." She inquired tentatively, hoping those questions weren't too invasive and at the same time not caring if they were, he'd followed her and he was lucky she was fighting her instinct to run.

Demetri stared back at her, and then huffed what sounded like an indignant sigh. "Of course, though I cannot be completely forthcoming at this time."

"Why not?" Della asked, raising her eyebrow.

Demetri's stare turned pleading, "Please, Delphia, trust that there are certain things I cannot share with you just yet."

"But you will?"

"I will, when you are ready."

Deciding that it wasn't worth arguing over but filing it away for a later confrontation, Della nodded and decided to add it to the ever growing list of things to bring up at a later time. That list was growing by the minute.

Demetri inhaled deeply and then began, "I do not know what my original surname was. As far back as I can remember I have used the name that belongs to the organization of my employment, Volturi. The name goes back to Latin origins, and would now be translated as 'vulture.' It was a name given to the group by our enemies and it stuck throughout the ages for all of their malignant and petulant stands against the… ancestors of my employers the organization became preeminent and unrivaled."

"I've never heard of them." Della pointed out.

Demetri nodded minutely, "You would not have, they are predominant in southern Europe."

"So, Demetri Volturi, what is it you do for this… group?"

"I, for the lack of a better description, find individuals."

Delphia blinked back at him, "You find people?" she shook her head as some pieces snapped together like magnates, "So that's probably how you found me then, it's what you do?"

"Yes, Delphia, I find people. I can find anyone in the world if I were to want it done. No one is hidden from me. Well, that is not entirely accurate any longer, there is one that has the ability to thwart me though I haven't had the need to find that particular individual in years." Demetri smirked, "I will always be able to find who I am looking for."

"Is Volturi another name for the Mafia? Oh Christ, are you in the Mafia?" Della's eyes grew wide and her heart hammered in her chest as she thought of the implications of her newfound… friend, if that's what he was to her, was a member of the Mob. The FBI, or the CIA, or the NSA or _whatever_ abbreviation, could be listening in through her phone that that very second and she would be none the wiser.

Della's mind began whipping around scenario's. Demetri was in the Mob, he went to Detroit because Della's aunt Mary must have gotten mixed up with them _somehow_ and that was why Demetri followed. There would be no running from the Mafia, she realized. Della was going to be taken to the mobster's lair and she would then be killed when they realized that Mary didn't care whether the girl lived or died. Or maybe what happened in New York had gotten back to the mob bosses and they didn't want to leave a loose end so they tracked her down and sent their somewhat unassuming handsome Demetri to get close to her and do the job. As her mind was fabricating this novel length scenario complete with dialogue and exactly what way she would gruesomely die, Demetri began to sense her distress. He was out of his chair and kneeling before her.

Della could feel the coolness of his touch as his hands landed on each of her knees, shocking her back to reality, "Delphia, whatever it is that your mind is conjuring I can assure you your worries are unfounded. Please, breathe." He waited in front of her until she seemed to visibly calm before continuing, "I do not work with the Mafia, nor does anyone I know."

She nodded and took a deep breath, "I believe you, sorry about that. Mind went haywire for a minute there. I've seen all three Godfather's." She laughed shakily and placed her hands over his where they were still sitting lightly on her knees and squeezed gently before releasing them again. "Thanks for being concerned."

His hand reached up to brush her left cheek and pushed some of her hair back, "Do you trust that I would do no harm to you?"

His voice was low and sultry, almost as if he were asking himself the question. He implored her with his eyes and she couldn't help the feelings she was having at the look of raw emotion that settled there, which had gone from brown to jet black since she'd last taken notice to them. Despite noticing his changing eye color, and the fact that he currently wore no contacts, she smiled down at him and nodded slowly, "I don't believe that you would, if you wanted to you could have already done it many times over, but you haven't." _But there's just something unnatural about you that I can't figure out_ , she added to herself.

"Have you had problems with the Italian Mafia before?" He asked, a fire lit in his jet black eyes as his voice remained steady and unchanging, his hand pressed delicately on the back of her head.

She shook her head, "If I had, I would surely be dead right now, I imagine."

It seemed like that was enough for Demetri, he stood and trailed his fingers back along her cheek as he walked away, towards the door. "I must leave for now, _diletto_ , I will return by nightfall."

~.~.~.~

After Demetri had left, Della had taken it upon herself to pay for one extra night at the motel because it was going on one in the afternoon and she'd yet to call around and ask about camp grounds. Truth be told she didn't know if she wanted to remain in New Orleans anymore after the previous nights' events. Now, she was getting to know the mysterious Demetri and something told her he would follow her to her camp if she were to follow through with that idea.

She would decide if she wanted to move on or not the following night. No need to make hasty decisions based on one experience. Plus, she wanted to stay off the road as long as she could.

Demetri had been gone for three hours now, and Della had simply lounged around scrolling through internet vlogs on the motel's spotty wifi and working on her assignments for the classes she was missing. She found that she was having trouble focusing on just one thing and had about six internet tabs opened, but nothing captured her attention for long as her mind kept drifting back to the fact that Demetri's eyes fluctuated in color, and the realization that when they had been black, the visible ring of the contacts he wore had been gone, but he'd not moved and taken them out in the entire time she'd been speaking with him.

So who, or rather _what,_ was Demetri Volturi.

She tried to put it all together, but she was coming up blank.

On one hand, he'd stalked her across the country. Logic told her that this was a cause for caution, but her sensibilities, misguided as they were, told her that she was okay with him, and that his insistence that no harm would come to her were truth. Demetri was cold to the touch; his eyes were black without contacts though she never saw him take them out. He appeared out of nowhere in the blink of an eye, making no sound. Della was certain that he would have, and could have hurt, no, _killed_ , the men in the ally the night before.

On the opposite hand, Demetri had rescued her from a flying fist. He had been honest with her about the fact that he had followed her. He'd told her he worked for an organization called the Volturi, even if there was nothing on the internet about them. Even the mob had history, so she couldn't understand why this group wouldn't at least have a poorly written Wikipedia page. He'd never given her reason to believe he was going to lay a hand on her. And besides all of the previous rationalities, she had the distinct feeling that he just _would not_ intentionally do something to her that she wouldn't consent to.

On the outside she seemed alright, just scrolling though things on the internet, but inside she was trying to unravel a mystery.

Della sighed and shut her laptop, she wasn't in New Orleans to sit around a motel room. It was daylight, and the weather was supposed to be nice until around four so she grabbed her keys and her over the shoulder bag and headed out once again, walking in part because she didn't want to drive again so soon and on the other hand because she didn't want to waste gas in case she needed to make a hasty get away and out run Demetri if she had to, because she still didn't trust him.

Della walked along the streets of the French Quarter, taking in all the smells and the sights before her. The loud jazz was playing all over the place and even though not one of the songs matched with another they all seemed to blend into one symphony that Della found herself easily appreciating. She threw a couple singles in a hat of one particular man playing a saxophone as she continued to walk down Bourbon St.

The quarter was just as she'd remembered it from the last time she'd been there as a girl. She'd heard that most of the area hadn't flooded in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina because the Quarter itself was above sea level. The surrounding residential areas, however, had been flooded exponentially and Della wondered just how effected the area still was, now ten years later.

Walking passed Madame Marie Laveau's Voodoo shop, Della decided she'd step inside and browse. Though Della didn't harbor a particular belief in the existence of magic, she did believe that there were things that couldn't be explained by human standards. She figured that if the Bible claimed that God, the Devil, Demons, and Angels existed, then it would stand to reason that there must be _more_ that also existed. Perhaps on a different plane than what humans were on. She didn't know. It was just a speculation that had haunted her for years. If heaven and hell were real, then perchance wouldn't a sort of earthly purgatory also be? Furthermore, couldn't all 'supernatural' creatures have a place in the world?

If she'd brought that one to attention in front of Gramps' she might have been in some serious shit over her blasphemy. Devout Christian that he was.

Bless the man.

Shaking the nagging thoughts of her fault for Gramps' death from her mind, Della entered the shop and began to walk around. There were so many little objects with tags that explained what they were for. Potions for different healing rituals, objects for protection, even gris-gris bags. You name it and it seemed to be littering the shelves. Della assumed that these things were not authentic, however. What kind of voodoo community would sell off their secrets and sacred items to a general public? It went against every book Della had ever read.

There were so many beautiful trinkets, though, and Della was rather captivated by them. She was so enthralled that she hadn't heard someone come up to her until they had spoken.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" a thick Cajun accent asked gently, almost melodically. Della jumped a million feet in the air and gasped, looking to her left she saw a woman of dark, but clearly pale enough to signify years of avoiding the sun, complexion smiling almost like a predator down at her. The woman was clearly at least half a head taller than Della at least, and she wore robes that made her look as though she had come from a 1900s African tribal meeting, a solid brown cloth wrapped around her head delicately like a snug hat. It was as if Marie Laveau had stepped out of the portrait of herself in the entrance of the shop that sat on the wall to stalk the stores customers. The woman stared down at Della, and Della noticed one thing that startled her more so that the woman's sudden appearance by her side.

Crimson red eyes.

"Woah, nice contacts." She said, smiling at the woman in an attempt to ease her jitters.

The woman smirked as if she was privy to information that Della was not, "Thank you, child. I wonder, would you like your future read to you, free of charge?"

"No." Della stated bluntly, and then realizing how rude she sounded she quickly explained, "I don't want to know about what my future entails, but thank-you for asking."

The woman's smirk faltered briefly and her head tilted to the right as she questioned, "You… fear the knowledge of your future?"

"It's not that I'm scared of knowing what lies ahead of me. I would just rather wait until things happen, I'm an 'in the moment' type of person." Della shrugged.

It wasn't uncommon for strangers to approach Della and for Della to become enraptured in a sort of philosophical conversation with them. It had happened many times before, and it was the fault of her mother. Lyn would stop and chat for hours with people whom she would never meet again about things that most other people would over look. Many times, Della could remember having lengthy conversations with total strangers alongside her mother about the meaning of life, something that had taken decades from even the world's most formidable philosophers to formulate an opinion on.

So, Della wasn't at all surprised when the woman continued to converse with her.

The woman motioned for Della to follow here to the front of the store. "Surely you must harbor some curiosity. Life, with all of its unexpected changes, must be a cause for great concern. I have seen thousands of people in my day and have yet to find one to be unconcerned with their lives direction."

Della laughed happily, standing at the front of the counter while the woman moved to stand behind it. "I can imagine. The thing is, I just don't particularly care. I could die tomorrow, but I wouldn't want someone to tell me that my fate would be so today. What I mean to say is, if I don't know what is going to happen, when, and how then I can be content living my life as fully as I can in the time that I have, the way that I want. If someone were to tell me I would die in less than a day, I would be running around panicking and trying to cram as many activities in one day as I could. But, if no one told me I would take my time, do some things that I felt like doing that day without a care or concern." Della took a deep breath in order to smell the incense burning near where she stood, the scent was divine, "Essentially, I already live my life the way I want to. Are there things I have yet to do that I want to before I die, yes. But I would be content were I to die tomorrow."

"And what if you were to die tonight?" The woman cackled, her red eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint that caused a shiver, an instinctive bodily action, to crawl up her spine.

_Danger._

Della, knowing to trust her instincts, decided that a lengthy philosophical conversation was not on the list for this particular day. Not with this woman, anyways. "Well, then I might want to grab some gumbo before that happens, right?" She responded cheekily, smiling as if she was joking so as not to cause alarm in the even that this woman did harbor ill intent, "Geez, now I'm feeling Gumbo. I was just browsing; I might come back in a couple days. Thanks for your help!"

Turning to leave, Della all but raced out of the shop as the woman said her 'good-bye, thanks for coming in and have a nice day' spiel. Once outside in the afternoon air, Della's panic started to decrease exponentially. She started walking quickly down the street in an attempts to put as far a space in between her and that shop as she could.

Walking passed The Gumbo Shop, where she had originally intended on having some Gumbo the night before, Della walked in and ordered some to go. It wasn't long before Della had made it back to her motel room and was sitting in front of her computer. This time she had a few more tabs opened, looking up Voodoo fortune telling and the history of the Marie Laveau shop, and in another attempting to discover if there was any reason someone would have red colored eyes.

Something about the clerk in the shop really freaked Della out. She wasn't sure what it was. At first it was the red eyes. There was no way that they could not have been contacts, but she hadn't seen the outline of the contact around the whites like she could when she saw Demetri's. Then it was the comments she'd made about Della dying.

None of that seemed _right_ to Della.

A knock on her door startled her back to reality.

"Hello?" she called out, not moving from her desk. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, worried that it would be the lady from the Voodoo shop.

A muffled voice came from beyond the door, "It is Demetri, may I enter?"

She stifled a giggle at herself for her own paranoid thoughts. She took a deep breath, thinking that it was a good thing he'd actually asked this time. The warning gave her enough time to close out the tabs that she had been using to Google this Volturi organization. "Yeah come on in."

He still had the room key, she hadn't asked for it back despite having scolded him for using it without permission, so he walked in with the key in hand and a smile on his face. Della took note of the fact that his contacts were back in place as he sat down in the chair that was quickly becoming the norm for him. His mirth had returned and with him an almost child-like grin stretching across his sharp features. He folded his hands together and placed them on the table.

Demetri stiffened and raised his head just a small amount as his forehead crinkled. He seemed to almost be… sniffing the air. Just as quickly as he'd done this, his eyes met hers and he slacked again. It was almost like a robotic move, and Della became curious filing the action away into her mental folder. Another thing to add to the growing pile.

She would have an arsenal of questions to use when the time came, that she would be sure of.

"May I ask what you are working on?" Demetri's head cocked slightly to the right, his eyes wandering from Della's face and then down to the computer that was shielding everything below the neck.

"Nothing much, I tried to start an essay on the Anglo-Saxons but I couldn't get into it. I've been wasting time walking around in N.O. I just got back a little bit ago. I have some left over Gumbo that you're welcome to if you'd like."

Demetri shook his head and gave her a sort of blank look. Silence passed between them and Della wondered what was running through his mind. She also wondered if he thought in Italian, surely he would, since it was his native language, right?

"I pay no mind to the language I think in, _diletto_. Though now that you bring it to my attention I can assure you that most of my thoughts are Greek." Demetri stated calmly, the radiant smile placed back upon his face. She couldn't get over how beautiful he looked when he smiled.

Wait, had she said the thing about the thoughts out loud?

Oops.

"Uh, why Greek?" She attempted to cover the fact that she had spoken and she hadn't known it with a follow up question.

"Because I am Greek, Delphia."

Della was confused, "I thought you were Italian?"

"I was born Greece, it wasn't until years after I was born that I journeyed to Italy, before that I had lived in Egypt. Italy happens to be the home that I have chosen, or rather Italy has chosen me." Demetri chuckled as if privy to a joke that only he knew.

"So how many languages do you speak, Demetri?" Della was genuinely intrigued as she shut her laptop and gave him her complete attention.

"How many are there?" He countered, the look on his face was absolutely serious. "I am well studied in the twenty-three most common European languages, Arabic, Japanese, Mandarin, Latin, and Ancient Greek. Do you speak any languages besides English?"

Delphia was struck dumb. She couldn't believe there was any way that he knew twenty-eight languages in his mere twenty- something or so years. How would that even be possible? Did he perhaps just have a bit of insight into certain languages? He couldn't be a master of that many languages at his age unless he was a prodigal genius!

"I took a few French classes. I know the language well enough to get around Quebec if I needed to." She barely wanted to answer and face her own mediocrity in comparison to Demetri's plethora of knowledge and skill.

It was in that moment she realized that she was way out of her league here. The thought caused her heart to pitfall. This guy, he followed _her_. He seemed to have a connection with her. But he was so far out of her league that it was painful. By looks alone the guy was probably the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. His knowledge gained him even more points as he would be able to entertain even the brightest of minds, as his was one of them she assumed.

What was he doing in a dingy motel room with her, Delphia the nomadic girl with a heart for travel and no plans to settle and make anything of herself. She was a nobody, whereas clearly Demetri was someone rather important.

He harbored secrets, but then who didn't?

"Please, Della, tell me more of yourself." He leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin on his folded hands, elevated by his elbows on the table.

Della gaped at him. How the shit was she supposed to come close to topping knowledge of almost thirty languages? She was so mediocre it almost hurt, "As I said before, there's really not much else to talk about. So, whatever questions are in your mind just ask them and I'll answer." She smiled, though it was forced.

Demetri fired question after question at Della with her permission. He asked about all of the mundane things she had done and seen, he asked about her favorite colors and foods, he even asked if she had any close friends. Demetri seemed enthralled by every answer she gave and he took no time to ponder her answers before he asked the next. It was almost as if he'd pre written a questionnaire and she was verbally filling in the answers that he would process later for an article.

She wondered what the title of such an article would be.

By the time midnight rolled around Della had practically fallen asleep still answering Demetri's questions. Chuckling, Demetri simply picked her up and laid her in the bed, drawing the covers up over her. He kissed her forehead chastely and left the room with a content smile.


	9. Chapter Eight

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Eight**

_No action is without consequence._

Demetri sat staring unblinkingly at the fraying floral wallpaper in his rented room. He could hear the humans that resided in this expanse partially dilapidated accommodations, their conversations, and their activities. He could differentiate how many different televisions were on and how many rooms were watching different channels from one another. Demetri could hear the animals outside and the cars as they drove by the motel, the families inside said vehicles he could hear as clearly as if they were in the room with him.

Yet Demetri focused on only a signal heartbeat. Three doors away from his own, Delphia was still awake despite him having left her as she began to fall asleep two hours prior.

He had wondered if he had given away too much information during their conversations that day, surely not, since she would soon be one of his kind so legally he had done no wrong. His largest concern was whether or not she was now frightened of him. Her reaction to his presence in her room that morning had caused a certain panic that he had never felt before, her scream of absolute terror forced him to think he had harmed her with his prodding of her person while she slept. He had not ever had the need to be gentle with a human before and was under the impression that lately he was exercising control in its utmost form, a fact that was growing more and more tedious by the day. When she had apologized and explained herself, Demetri was hit with another sobering realization of Delphia's humanity.

It was another reminder of how human his mate currently was. Her humanity was making it rather difficult for him, though he still did not know her and her reactions well enough to truly introduce her to his world and turn her. From what he could already discern, Delphia was liable to run off the moment she awoke in her second life as things stood at this moment. No, he would not turn her until his two months were drawing to a close and not a moment sooner unless he was left with no choice.

Even still, he fought the urge to take her to the bayou and turn her. _Tonight_. Surely Aro would be pleased with the idea, if only to bring his tracker back sooner.

At least as of that morning Delphia had warmed up to him enough to jest with him, Demetri had seen that as a sure sign that she was feeling something of the mating bond they shared, at least it was a start. He need only push it in the right direction.

After her reaction when she had thought him a member of the Italian Mafia, Demetri was no longer certain that she had been able to place any measure of trust in him. She had clearly lied to him about having currently or in the past had an issue with the criminal organization. Though she'd made a correct statement out of it in attempts to cover the lie. Had she have had any sort of conflict with the Mafia, she would or at least _should_ be dead. Her lie, despite the fact that he knew she more than likely couldn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about whatever it was that had frightened her to such an extent as to cause her body to become ridged, her heart beating so quickly she seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack, had caused him to need to feed much sooner than he anticipated.

As soon as he had left the room he'd flitted out into the bayou and found a man to drain. He had done so with great vigor, taking every last drop the man had to offer before cautiously breaking his neck and tossing him for the alligators to feed from. Demetri's instincts were fighting back with a vengeance, and he'd stood around staring at the corpse of his meal until the alligators had come and then had wrestled the animals in order to expel some of his frustrated energy.

When he finally came back to himself, after an hour or so, Demetri was forced into reason. The simple thought of someone influential making an attempt on his mate's life had nearly forced him to bite her then and there, to save her from possible human death if she were to run across her own enemies. And in his experience the Mafia had actually been a quite formidable foe, for a group of humans.

When Demetri had returned to Delphia's room he was assaulted with the faint scent of the local coven leader, Marie Laveau and one he did not recognize, but assumed it was one of Marie's coven. He assumed that they had either entered Della's motel room without permission or she or had somehow met Della during the day. Either way, Demetri's mind ran over every possibility and probability.

And if he found that Laveau harbored any malicious intent for his mate then the New Orleans coven would cease to exist, and soon.

When Della made no mention of having been threatened or harassed, Demetri decided that he would not leave his position near her besides for feeding purposes. Her safety was his utmost priority. He would need to assert himself and his rank in the vampire world over the residing coven, should Delphia wish to remain in New Orleans for much longer.

Perhaps his worries were unfounded, perhaps not. The only way for him to discover the truth would be to gain Delphia's trust. So far, he realized, he had been doing an awful job at accomplishing that task. He was glad that Felix or any other member of the esteemed Volturi was not around to witness his current behavior, for he would certainly become the new court jester for the better part of a century.

Demetri had never attempted to court a woman before, human or vampire. His ex-wife Cassiopeia and he had merely matched out of mutual gain and as a way to combat the loneliness of a mate-less existence. They had not loved, and they had not been mates. He had not courted Cassiopeia, they had no reason to have done so. After his wife, he'd not had to court any of his conquests, as he had been accustomed to simply taking what he wished to have.

That behavior would not do when it came to his own mate. Delphia was his equal, together they would be partners, two different halves of the same being currently on two planes of existence. Soon, they would be equal in every sense.

Hearing shuffling and the creaking in Della's room, Demetri noticed that she had finally gotten into bed. It wasn't too much longer after that and her heartbeat slowed enough for Demetri to realize that she had finally fallen asleep.

 _What a waste_ , Demetri thought. Having not slept in well over a thousand years he could no longer imagine how such a form of unconsciousness would feel. He imagined that sleep would be like floating in an abyss of nothingness, only to eventually free fall into wakefulness several hours later. He wondered what sleeping dreams were like, and if his nightmares would be more like memories of his own indecencies.

Forgoing nightmares and delving deeper into the realm of philosophy, what of the vampire's soul when final death is at last obtained? He knew what the theists would say. Vampires, once dead, would belong to the innermost circles of hell. The soul of a vampire had been sold to the Devil himself the moment they had crossed over into that life. But what of the other religions of the world?

Demetri wondered what he would be damning Delphia to when he turned her into one of his own kind. Thoughts like these had never entered Demetri's mind before. It was as if as silent and statuesque as he was at the moment it was the absolute opposite in his wandering cognizance. The gears in his mind turned over as rapidly as a humming birds wings as he thought over philosophy and theology, two subjects he had refrained from contemplating in his unnaturally long lifetime.

An overwhelming feeling of powerlessness was beginning to wear on the thousand-year-old immortal. Demetri had never dealt with such feelings, aside from being caught under the vengeful gaze of Jane or the paralyzing vapor of Alec. There had always been a clear path for him, and easy or at very least pliable way to complete his tasks as set before him. In the past ten days, he had not had a clear path. Every plan he compiled was shot down in less than two days. Delphia was different, his limited knowledge of her character in comparing her to other human's he'd heard of showed as much.

Demetri was jolted from his thoughts as he heard the familiar ring of a cell phone three rooms down. Since the majority of the humans who were staying in the motel were asleep, he was easily able to focus in on the conversation as Delphia answered the call, though the conversation from the other end was much more difficult to discern.

"Miss Payne, this is Officer Branson with the Detroit PD, I'm sorry for the late night call." A man's voice came over the receiver, though his voice was slightly muffled due to the distance and barriers.

"That's alright Officer, what's happened?" Delphia's voice was calm, if still groggy from sleep, and Demetri could hear her rustle in the covers, as if she was pulling herself up.

The officer sighed, "I'm sorry to inform you, but tonight I answered a call of a house fire and it happened to be your grandfather, Louis Payne's, home. We're not sure yet, but we think it is directly related to a case we were working on with a local drug lord."

Delphia's voice was heavy, as if she were choking back emotion, "Why would a local drug lord want to burn down my Gramps' house?"

"Unfortunately Miss Payne, we can't fully answer that question at this time. We suspect that it has something to do with Mary Payne and her history with this particular man."

"Is Mary being arrested again?"

"That brings me to another issue I wanted to discuss with you, Miss Payne. It seems that your Aunt has gone missing. She hasn't been seen in three days around any of her usual spots, and she didn't show up to work. For my report, I'd like to ask where you are and when the last time you saw your Aunt was?"

Della sucked in a breath and heaved a sigh when the officer reported Mary missing. Demetri did not know how she would handle this situation. He was under the impression that Delphia did not harbor any real connections in her family, from standing on the sidelines and observing her during her Grandfather's funeral. Now, he would reap what he sowed in consequence of his actions with Mary.

"I'm in Louisiana right now. I don't know for how much longer. I'm a traveler, so I don't really stay in the same spot for too long. The last time I saw Mary was right after my Gramps' funeral a few days ago at the reading of his will." Della answered, seemingly calm.

"Alright, Miss Payne. Do you think for any reason Mary would follow you?"

"No, Officer, she wouldn't. First of all, she had no idea where I was going. Second of all, she doesn't care enough about me to follow me anywhere. I'd like to ask something about the house, sir, if I can." Della stated.

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Is there anything that can be saved, or is it gone?" Her voice was losing its calm façade and Demetri was standing, ransacking his brain for a justification in bounding into her motel room.

"I'm sorry, Miss Payne, we were unable to reach it in time. The house has been burnt to its foundation."

Demetri was standing outside now, seeing the light on in Della's room he quickly walked down to the vending machine by the office and bought a bottle of water while Della and the officer wrapped up the phone call. He opened the bottle and dumped over half of it onto the ground and then walked back to Della's door, should he need an excuse for entering he could use the water bottle.

The sound of a wailing banshee assaulted his sense of hearing and he cringed as it grated against his ears. Though the discomfort in the sound was high, what was worse was the fact that the noise of utter helplessness came from his own mate. Demetri had heard the sobs of millions of humans, victims of both him and the rest of the Volturi, over his thousand years on this earth. Never before had he felt so compelled to make them stop, at all costs.

The feeling of powerless panic rose deep within his body. He felt as though his undead heart pounded in his chest for the first time in millennia, though he knew this to be a trick of his emotional state. As a vampire, he had never felt such a jitter in his body. It was as if the whole thing was alight and his instincts were on fire, ready and willing for his brain to decide what needed to be done.

Forgetting himself and caving to his instinct, Demetri slid the little plastic card that he'd stolen from Delphia through the door of her room. The only light that was on in the room was the one on the nightstand by the far left side of the bed. On the bed itself, Delphia was sitting with her back against the wall, knees pulled up to her chin and her forehead resting across them with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs as if keeping herself hidden, protected, and safe from the world around her. Her wails had quieted only by a fraction, and it was clear that she had not heard him enter.

It was a sight that Demetri would not soon forget, his mate looking utterly helpless and lost. The sight almost forced him to feel the same as she clearly did, but his age and instinct told him _no._ No, _he_ caused this, _he_ must fix it. His very instincts were reminding him that had _he_ not killed Mary, then she may have been able to pay off whatever debt she owed the narcotics dealer, and perhaps the house would remain standing until the next threat.

Despite his thoughts, which were growing louder by the minute, Demetri flitted over to the side of the bed Delphia was sitting on while she wasn't paying attention to anything around her. Without warning her that he was there, Demetri laid one arm underneath her legs and snaked the other around her back, lifting her just enough to make room for himself and place her back on his lap.

 _I should not even be here; I have caused this._ He scolded himself mentally, but his instincts would not allow him to leave. His inner beast hissed and growled at the thought of doing so. No, he was meant to protect and care for the mate that the gods had given him. Despite his feelings of guilt, he would remain and do as he was meant to.

"What is it, _bella cara_ , what has happened?" He inquired in the most soothing voice he could muster, regardless of the fact he already knew the situation he still found himself wanting to know exactly what her thoughts on the matter were.

Instead of flailing and perhaps even raising her voice with him for barging in, Delphia opened her arms and threw them around his torso, pulling him so that they were almost fused together. _Two halves of the same whole._ Demetri mused, as he ran his hand down her long red mane while she cried.

Delphia did not answer, only remained snuggled closely against him. She was slowly calming and her wails had quieted to sniffles in a matter of minutes while he held her, whispering to her in Italian, phrases that praised her beauty and told her of his feelings for her and the bond that they shared. He apologized sincerely for the pain that he currently caused and all that he knew he would cause in the future. All of the Italian seemed to be working on the woman, as she finally let out a shaky breath and looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen and red rimmed. There was no mascara, and no eyeliner to be seen. The beauty of her seemed only to magnify without the aid of these products and Demetri found himself placing a delicate kiss to her forehead.

Demetri was so caught up in his mate's deep blue eyes he hadn't stopped to take in the expression of utter astonishment and fascination on hers.

"Demetri," she said calmly, through a voice that was already thick with emotion.

" _Si_ , _diletto_?"

He looked down into her face and she was staring into his eyes with a fervor that, had he not had a phenomenal sense of smell, he would have though her aroused.

"Do you mind telling me why your eyes are red _without_ contacts?"

Demetri nearly panicked, mentally berating himself for his _absolute_ carelessness. After a thousand years of living as a vampire, the number one rule being do not expose oneself, how could he of _all_ vampires have forgotten about his crimson eyes? Was the stress of his situation actually wearing on him this much? Aro would be displeased when he saw this particular moment. To save him grief from both Delphia and Aro, Demetri quickly concocted the first lie that had come to his mind. Mentally thanking Felix for having read the article on this particular human fad and pestered Demetri about it for days afterwards.

"I had them tattooed over several years ago. I have recently been covering them." Demetri explained.

Demetri couldn't tell if Della had bought the lie or not, she gave no indication as she placed her warm hands on each side of his face and looked closer at his crimson orbs. Her face so close to his, Demetri had to fight to focus on her face, and not the blood that was flowing beneath her flesh. Quickly, Demetri began thinking about literally _anything_ he could to distract himself from her tantalizing scent. In the back of his mind he realized that he would have to feed more regularly now, to maintain the color if she were to see it. Though he could always maintain the contacts, if he so chose.

It dawned on Demetri that this was the first outright lie he'd ever spoken to his mate. His stress level rose a bit higher as his beast snarled at him to _bite_ her, that way they would not have to lie to their mate any longer.

"I bet that hurt like a bitch." She whispered, her own eyes glancing down at his lips and back up into his eyes. Demetri tried not to smirk as he noticed the movement. Clearly she was as attracted to him and he was to her.

Not knowing how much it would hurt a human to have their eyes tattooed, but guessing that it would indeed feel as Delphia had described, Demetri nodded in affirmation of her comment. Crisis averted for the time being, Demetri took Della's hand in his own noting that she had yet to move from his lap and quite content with the arrangement despite the call of her enticing blood. He moved his lips to her forehead once again.

Della remained silent, now staring down at their laced hands and completely unaware of the internall struggle Demetri was having. When she looked back up only a couple of minutes had passed. "How do you just _know_ when to come?" she inquired, her head cocked slightly to the side giving her an inquisitive look.

"I am not sure what you mean, Delphia."

"I don't know, like, you seem to show up at the right times. At first, in the bar, I hadn't wanted someone to talk to. I was just there to do some shots for my Grandpa because he'd just passed away. When you showed up and we spoke for hours on the subject of ancient history like my Gramps and I always had it was like you'd just known that for some reason that was what I needed in that moment and you were there. Then, in the alley, I knew that I was in trouble. I knew that I would end up in the hospital but I wouldn't go out without a fight. Then you just show up like you somehow just _knew_ that I needed a hand, following me or not. And then again tonight." Della took a breath before continuing, "Part of me wants to scream at you, vent my frustrations and disbelief. These last couple of days have been life changing and insane. I don't know how to feel about these events."

Demetri wanted to tell her everything in that moment. It was the hardest ten seconds he'd ever had to endure, holding himself back from confessing the truth of their bond and his immortality. He knew that she wasn't ready to hear it. In fact, she wasn't even ready to face her reality at the moment, she was keeping the topic from the reason for her upset on purpose. Not that he minded, he had his own inner demons he was wrestling. He was biting his tongue so hard with his over sharpened teeth that venom pooled in his mouth in attempts to heal the wound he'd inflicted on himself. He swallowed the venom before he opened his mouth to speak.

"I will always know when you need me, _bella cara_. The _how_ is not important, the only detail that matters is that I will be there for you through the very pits of hell."

Della looked at him, her eyes seemingly burning into his soul when next she spoke, "When are you going to tell me the truth?"

Again, Demetri had to stop himself from actually professing the truth as she asked for it, once again reasoning that she was not _ready_ for the truth. "In time, _diletto_. Now please, what has happened tonight that caused so much distress?"

Della snorted and rolled off of his lap and to the opposite side of the bed, pulling herself up so that she was in a sitting position. Demetri was saddened by her sudden departure, as it was like opening the floodgates on his load of stress and unfortunate ponderings, from him as her warmth left his naturally cold body but nonetheless intrigued by her reaction to his practical confession to the fact that he was keeping secrets from her. He had expected anger, and to be told to leave. But of course, nothing would be as expected with Delphia.

"Nice change of subject, Demetri." Della huffed and snatched his discarded water bottle, drinking the rest of it in one swallow.

"I believe it was you who changed the subject in the first place, Delphia." Demetri pointed out, amused by her perception.

Della flashed him a smile, her eyes were less red at this point and he was glad to have provided a distraction at least momentarily, "Well it's not exactly every day that I see red eyes when I look up. I'm not buying that tattoo story, by the way. I've only ever heard of someone tattooing the whites of the eye, not the color bit."

"The sclera and the iris." Demetri corrected.

Della sneered mockingly, "Yeah, that. And I am still fighting myself here. I don't know whether I should yell and scream or tell you what happened. But for some crazy fucking reason I feel like I should just tell you so here it is: The Detroit PD called and told me my aunt was missing and the house I've lived in for the past seven years, the one my mom grew up in, was burnt to the ground."

If he were judging by Della's voice alone, Demetri would say she was most effected by the burning of her family home. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head.

"You wanna know what's really bothering me about the whole thing, Demetri?" He nodded for her to continue as she briefly paused and looked at him, "What's really bothering me is that the house burnt because of Mary's probable drug debt with one of Detroit's _finest_." She spat the last word in such a way that it told Demetri that Della truly did _not_ believe the narcotics dealer to be one of the city's finest, "She has always had a bad drug problem; it wouldn't surprise me if she wanted the house in the first place for something of value to use to barter for more damn _drugs_. Wherever she's run off too, though, I'm sure her dealer will catch her. I just hope that she has the decency to feel remorse for what she has caused. There were so many memories in that house, decades of memories in fact. It's like she spit on Gramps' memory and that's not alright, If I knew where she was I would gladly drive after her and drag her to the DPD by her fucking hair. I'm lucky I got the mustang out of there at least, I wish I could have taken more."

"Why could you not have taken more?" Demetri questioned, turning his body so it was facing hers and crossing his legs so that he could fully see her face as they spoke. His internal struggles would have to be pushed to the side for now.

Della sighed and looked down at her hands and shrugged her shoulders. He could smell a fresh round of tears welling up in her eyes but she seemed to be choking them back, taking a few breaths before she answered, "I couldn't really afford to keep a bunch of things in storage. Since I don't plan on ever having a home somewhere in particular and the car was packed enough as it is, there wasn't much I could take in way of mementos."

He could not tell her that he had arranged for a nomad indebted to him, the day after he killed Mary, to box all of the pictures in the home, along with any possessions in the room that smelt mostly like Delphia, and have them shipped to Volterra. Felix had agreed to transport them to Demetri's suite. It was to be a surprise for after she'd been turned, and even though she may thank him to know that he'd had such foresight, if he told her now what he had done he figured that she would find the behavior strange and quite possibly flee.

Demetri realized that for all his arsenal of words, he had nothing he could say that would be a comfort to his mate in this situation. He had killed her aunt, and therefore the woman was not simply running from her dealer and her debts. Demetri hadn't even thought to locate and end the narcotics dealer. He couldn't shake the responsibility that his actions had brought upon his shoulders as his mate attempted to regain control over her emotion once again. _No action is without consequence, I would do best to remember that,_ he told himself. Demetri had never had to think about killing humans before, this behavior was strange to him and it was now contributing to his helpless feelings and the restraint he had shown thus far.

He could not simply stop killing the humans, and he could not continue doing so without contemplating his mate's reaction and how his actions might affect her.

The fact that she didn't know about his true nature was starting to get in the way of her own happiness, and his. Though the thought that she may not see the way he did when the truth was revealed kept him from following through with his mental plans for abduction. In truth, he began contemplating how he could justify simply turning her and whether it would be easier to find himself a boat that would take him across the Atlantic or to wait until Delphia was turned and take a private plane, flown by their own kind as to keep Delphia from slaughtering the pilot.

Hopefully things would go back to the way they were soon.

"Hey, remember that statement I made about coming in here without permission?" Della's voice, free of tears, called his attention to her face once more.

He nodded, bracing himself for her anger. But, as usual, Delphia was full of surprises.

"I'm glad you ignored it." She whispered, smiling kindly at him. "But only this one time. Don't get any ideas Dem."

Demetri felt his face stretch into a grin, praising the gods that Delphia was smiling, even if it were just a small one. He reached up and brushed some hair out of her face and leaned over to kiss her forehead once more. He was so intoxicated with her scent that now that he'd thrice placed his lips to her warm skin he could not get enough. He mustered every bit of self-control he could.

He only wondered how he would feel once he kissed her properly.

At the now much faster speed of his mate's heartbeat, Demetri pulled away, his tongue darting out to run across his lips for a teaser of how her mouth would taste but there wasn't much of a flavor to go on. _Now is not the time for that_ , he cautioned himself as he watched Delphia's eyes glaze over and smelt the faint scent of arousal glide into his senses. Knowing that he couldn't properly restrain himself where she to act on her instinct, he quickly made an excuse to leave as her blood began to race and the melody that called to him, urging him to continue what he'd just moments before started, "I should let you get your rest, _diletto_."

Della had wished him a good night as he exited the room quickly. The call of her blood had become stronger with each passing nanosecond in her aroused state and Demetri felt he had no choice but to feed once again. He made way to the bayou, not bothering to stop at his room as he walked at a human's pace into the swamp. He had half a mind to hunt down Laveau and find out just what it was she had been trying to find when she'd gotten close enough to his mate that her scent lingered on his mate's clothing. He strummed the cord attached to Laveau's mind, she was home, but decided against visiting tonight.

He was gone for only a couple of hours, stalking down someone until finally, just before dawn, he found an older man and drained him dropping his remains into the bayou for the alligators. There was no chance he could keep this up without drawing attention to himself. He would have to feed elsewhere in Louisiana for the next week or so, though even still the human authorities may believe there to be a serial killer on the loose. Though he was certain humans came up missing all of the time it wouldn't hurt to be more cautious. Especially now that he had to keep his eyes the same crimson color so as not to attract further suspicion in Delphia.

Also, Laveau would take it as a personal offence and Demetri's actions would shame Aro. Vampire etiquette was boring, but it kept the balance and the secret. The only problem Demetri was having was that Dlephia's scent called to him so strongly that he had trouble stopping himself. Though he wasn't usually so over indulgent in his feedings, the scent of Delphia's need for him had been unexpected and had caught him off guard, almost forcing him to crave a sustenance that blood could _not_ give him, and having to settle for second best, and he would light his self-dismembered body on fire before he fed off animals like those mutant Cullen's

Demetri had been gone for two hours when he walked back into the motel parking lot. The first thing he noticed was the absence of the black Mustang that he'd come to recognize as Delphia's vehicle. His eyes shifted to see a note on his own door. Growling, he quickly walked at a human pace to the it, since the sun was beginning to rise and he'd rather not attract the attention of early rising humans. Furthermore, he would have to get inside soon or risk exposing himself. Though, he looked up, it looked like storm clouds were rolling in. He pulled the letter from the door, repulsed by the chewing gum that held it in place as it stretched along with the letter.

Wiping his hands of the disgusting stuff, Demetri looked down at the paper.

_Demetri,_

_Tag, you're it._

_Love,_

_Della_

"How infuriating!" Demetri growled loudly, folding the letter and cramming it into his pants pocket.


	10. Chapter Nine

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Nine**

_Was she about to be initiated into some sort of cult without her consent?_

A lone dark figure sat in the back room of the Marie Laveau Voodoo shop. The room was well hidden from the public, as only a blood sacrifice could open the surreptitious opening in the wall hidden within the shops storage closet. It was a well-guarded secret of her coven and the local covenant that they would hide their true rituals away from the world, and yet still directly underneath their upturned noses. In a shop that no less than proclaimed to have ties to Voodoo magic. Oh yes, the mundane humans _knew_ of Voodoo magic, there was no doubt that it existed, and yet they chose to bury their heads in the sand and pretend that it was not real. This did not bother those who practiced locally. At the very least they took the average person's falsified ambiguity as consolation for centuries of oppression.

Inside the hidden room was lit only by several candles that stacked on a rickety looking table, the flames flickering though there was no breeze to be felt. In between the four walls dozens of animal bones and sacred grimoire's scattered the tables, shelves, and even littered the floor while hundreds of herbs and potions in vials rested on an antique book shelf that covered the expanse of the back wall. One chicken wandered the room, but that animal would not survive long. On the floor there were large pillows sat circular around markings on the scuffed wooden ground. Drawn skulls and shapes in an intricate design littered the center pit and seemed to have a glow and almost _pulse_ of their own as if the floor was breathing. At the very bottom, directly in front of where the figure sat, of the ritualistic symbols there was a name.

_Delphia Payne._

From one of the pillows, the figure stood brushing the clay she'd used to draw the symbols and write the name onto a nearby cloth. It had been more than three decades since she had last begged the ancestors for insight into the future of another. Sure, the she made a wonderful living off of creating the _illusion_ that she asked the spirits for glimpses of tourist's meager futures almost daily, but to actually preform the ritual was taxing, even for a vampire. At least her recovery rate was far faster than her human brethren in this regard.

There was something about the red haired girl she'd encountered that afternoon that she could not shake. The scent of the ancient Volturi, Demetri, had floated from her almost as soon as the girl had entered the shop and walked through the foyer. Yet, it was not only the scent of the ancient which called to the vampire, but the underlying intoxicating scent of this human's own blood.

Marie Laveau had never been able to pick up on humans with gifts, she was no Eleazar of the Denali coven, but she had come to learn in her near two hundred and fifty years that humans who smell of a particular way tend to become extraordinary vampires. Or at very least they had supernatural blood already within their veins that had yet to be tapped, power that they had yet to unlock and utilize. Such humans were of witch blood, however minimal. Most vampires hadn't yet found this to be fact. Only Aro Volturi suspected as such, and yet he hadn't explored further, for all of his power grabs over the years Marie figured he would have done so by now. The magic was in the blood, and who would know blood better than a vampire, after all.

It was for that reason that she had originally been directed to one of her coven members, her mate Amos, for as a human that he'd had the same smell of this young woman. When she had gotten closer she'd realized that he was also her mate, and in immortality her mate had thrived with the gift that his blood had given him. Though it only came through trial and tribulation.

Marie had to stop herself from trailing the girls scent that night, if only to protect her from Demetri Volturi. Surely the young girl would either be dead or turned by morning, depending on the Volturi trackers _orders_. The only reason Marie had not gone after the girl to turn her herself was to be sure not to attract the Italian vultures to the South. It was written in the treaty that the document would be declared void if one southern coven attracted the attention of the 'kings' of the vampire world, and as the humans would say, it would once again be on like Donkey Kong.

However, Marie was intrigued still by this girl. Within minutes of the young lady's departure Marie had ordered one of her coven members to find out all they could about her, without alerting the ancient one of their presence for surely then the girl would die. She speculated that if she could do so, she would like to make a grab for this woman to be turned and inducted into her own coven, if only to harness what power came of such seductive blood and save her from a hundred torturous lifetimes with the Volturi.

Marie knew more than most what years of servitude to the Volturi did to the average Vampire if they hadn't manifested their gift quickly enough for Aro.

When her coven member called after having tracked the human girl, Marie was rather impressed by the lack of information that was found on the young lady. She was staying at a motel just outside of the French Quarter, she had only a vehicle, some measly trinkets and possessions, and her name was Delphia Payne. Fortunately for Marie the only necessity for the ritual she intended for tonight was the name of her focus, and since she'd received that she'd waited patiently to close her shop and had sealed herself away in her spiritual room.

It had been many years since Marie had last preformed this particular ritual. Seeing into the future of a specific individual was not without danger. She had to first gain permission from the spirits and ask for their guidance on the next plane, while her body remained in the room, so that her soul may finds its return path instead of being lost to the purgatory of the _other_ realm.

Marie plucked the chicken from the ground and held it firmly in her arm. Raising her head to view the ceiling above her she twisted the chicken's neck and severed it from its body. As blood poured from the decapitated animal onto the floor Marie began to chant in her native tongue, " _Bay lòd m 'je pou m' wè tan kap vini an ou gen entansyon pou li_."

~.~.~.~

Della laughed to herself as she stuck her chewed up piece of gum on Demetri's door and pressed the note she'd written him against it. She'd watched him walk off into the swamp an hour before and, though she was a little concerned (okay, she was suspicious as hell but she wasn't about to go into the bayou in the dark!) about the reason he'd done so, she couldn't bring herself to be worried for his safety. There was something… _off_ about him. Whatever it was, it told her that he was in no danger walking off by himself into the bayou.

After placing the note, Della quickly jumped in her car and took off towards the business district in search of breakfast, wondering how long it would take for him to catch up to her. If Dem truly was an accomplished tracker as he claimed to be then it wouldn't take too long. She giggled to herself when she pulled into the parking garage just a block from the restaurant she intended to eat at just as thunder cracked overhead.

Della groaned, it was not supposed to be so stormy. When she'd envisioned New Orleans she had this picturesque sunny high of 100 degrees, shorts and a tank weather in mind. Clearly the weather was not on her side and she was praising the God above that she'd had the foresight to wear her tennis shoes instead of her flip flops today. She supposed that it was January, while half of the country was snowing the other half might as well be raining. _C'est la vie_. Della thought to herself.

Yawning, Della walked through the parking garage and onto the street. She'd only gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before and it had been interrupted with the devastating news of her family home being burnt to the ground. That, combined with the stress of Mary being missing and the mystery that surrounded Demetri was starting to take a toll on her. She needed to sleep for a good ten hours without interruption, since she'd missed out on so much for the last week or so, and tonight may just be the last chance she'd get to really sleep because after tonight she'd be on the ground in a tent, sleeping in her bedroll.

She still couldn't fucking _believe_ Mary's behavior, and wondered where she'd gone off too. Mary was one who would _always_ live in Detroit, she'd never wanted to move or even leave for a vacation. So where would she go? The woman didn't really have friends or anything and she couldn't go to her dealer because he was so obviously the one after her.

 _Ugh, who knows with Mary,_ Della thought. Della had half a mind to find the woman and drag her back to Detroit by her hair, dump her on the steps of the Detroit Police Department and then accept whatever judgment that fell upon her shoulders after that. Because assault was illegal, and she'd probably get some time for it.

Not that Della really wanted to go to jail, she just wanted to see justice done.

The clouds looked as though they were rolling in fast, so Della quickly made her way down the sidewalk and into Manhattan Jack, a place she had looked up that morning and decided she'd rather like to try. Who wasn't a fan of bakeries, anyways? She wanted a damn muffin and a latte after all the shit she'd been through that night and the night before. Della entered with her laptop bag over her shoulder and smiled at the clerk, placing her order and sitting at one of the tables that lined the wall, strategically facing the front door of the shop to keep an eye out for Demetri.

Della pulled her laptop out of the bag she was carrying with her and began to search local campgrounds. Most of them required that you have an RV to rent a slot for more than a week. Despite the crazy that was becoming Della's (supposed to be) simplistic lifestyle, the clock would not just stop for her. Time would pass, and thus Della still had things on her list that needed to be done. Sighing, Della pulled out her phone and began making a few calls while she ate the food she'd purchased. The stuff was delicious, she decided, and while in between phone calls she made sure to add a positive review on the restaurant's Yelp page.

Although she loved having a bed to sleep in and an air conditioned room, Della realized that she was spending too much money. If she wanted to get by without having to pick up a job for a month or so, then she needed to get herself a cheaper rented space and buy canned goods instead of eating out every day. She had enough money to last a while and continue to do the things she wished, but she didn't want to push it. Especially not until all the legalities were cleared and whatever Gramps had left her, monetary wise, was hers.

Delphia had no idea how much money Gramps had saved in his accounts. She speculated that after all of his investments he had several thousand dollars. He had been particularly savvy when it came to stock market investments. She hoped it would be enough to either buy an RV or get her on a plane to the other side of the world. There towards the end he'd mentioned that he admired the person her mother had become in her travels, and Della figured that Gramps wouldn't mind if she used the money he left her to move on. She'd already seen most of the United States, now there were entire continents she'd yet to travel and she would love to.

She figured that first she'd go to Europe for a while. She'd like to visit all of the European countries, starting north to north east and working her way south to south west and back again. This would have but her in Italy probably three years or so into her travels in Europe and then she may have met Demetri at, like, 25 or something. Yes, fate likely had something in mind having them meet sooner, she was sure of it. Della shook her head, no need to think about fate at the present time.

After Europe it would be easy to buy passage to Africa, starting in Egypt, and move her way around from there. She'd loved Africa on the discovery channel, and hoped that she could eventually get there. However, from her person research, it looked like unless you were rich it seemed that the likelihood of staying alive in some of the African countries was slim. To Della, this was no big deal. She would face death in Europe, being a measly 5 foot and one hundred fifteen-pound young woman traveling alone would make her a target for human predators. She'd almost take the lions in Africa over those kinds of people.

If she survived Europe and Africa, Della thought about moving on to Australia for a few years. She'd heard that the people were wonderful down under and had always been excited to go there herself.

Then she'd probably head up to Asia for a few years, stop in Japan for several months before moving up through China and then going to Vietnam, South Korea, and India. She'd love those places if she could pick up a little of the languages, surely she would be better at communicating with her hands and gestures by this point after having gone through African and European countries.

After all of that she would head over to South America for a while. She intended on going through Argentina, Paraguay, Brazil, Peru, and Venezuela at least. Then she would make her way up through Panama to Costa Rica, Honduras and Guatemala before entering into Mexico.

After all of that, Della intended to move up through the U.S., stop through Detroit to visit Gramps' grave, and up into Canada for a while until she was ready to move on, this time going to which ever country had resonated with her the most in her travels.

Briefly, Della entertained the idea of Demetri journeying with her. He knew the languages, after all. This thought was fleeting, as she realized that he had responsibilities to this _Volturi_ (she was starting to speculate that the Volturi was some kind of mob, if not the Italian mafia, or something), and they would no doubt be requesting him back soon. He seemed to be important, and she wondered what he was doing following her around when he probably had work to do? Surely he wasn't tracking _her_ for his bosses or he would have already snatched her up and had her happy ass on a plane, or a boat, by now. He couldn't be on business and mixing it with pleasure, that didn't seem like him from the brief understanding she had obtained of him in the minimal conversations they'd had.

So what _was_ he doing in America?

"Ah, the lovely lady who fled from my store yesterday." Della heard a heavily Cajun accented voice come from beside her.

Recognizing the voice, Della tried to squash the increasing panic and looked up with a false smile, "Hey there. I was right, I really needed that Gumbo last night."

The woman smiled, her eyes now a dark brown in color. Della could clearly see the outline of her contacts this time. _Demetri and this woman have the same red eyes, coincidence? I think not._ Della thought to herself. The lady, instead of saying something else and walking away like your average person would, sat her drink on the table and took the seat in front of Della.

 _She's extremely pale, too_. Della pondered, _musical voice. This isn't making sense._

"What is your name, child?" she questioned, her face set in such a way that it told Della she would not get away with lying, or perhaps that she already knew the answer to her question and wanted to judge Della's own honesty. The woman looked like a stern old grandmother, but with the youth of a mother.

Seriously, she was probably like forty years old. How was Della a _child_? It wasn't because she was short, was it? Ugh, short jokes had gotten old when she'd been forced to attend public school.

"It's Delphia, just call me Della, you?" she answered, feeling as though she wouldn't get away with lying even if she tried. She didn't trust the woman a bit, and therefore would not be giving her any more than just her first name.

The woman chuckled, "I am Marie. There is no need to be so distressed, Delphia, I mean you no harm. I am simply intrigued by the fact that, although you carry the scent of one of the ancients on your gorgeous red mane, _you_ are still alive." Marie raised a finger to brush across the top of the laptop monitor, shutting it slowly and drawing all of Della's attention to her face. "You see, they don't usually let those they encounter live, so I was under the impression you would be dead come nightfall. Yet here you are, at day break, _alive_."

Della was officially freaked the fuck out, what the hell was this lady talking about? Who was an 'ancient one' and why were they going to kill her? Why did it have to be death, that's so cliché! Was she talking about a ghost or something? "Well, I believe that our original hypothesis for my time of death was scheduled for later this evening." Della answered, in hopes that her sarcasm might help her stay calm.

It didn't.

Marie smiled, "You don't understand, Miss Della, and that is fine, but if you are still alive today then I can almost guarantee that you will not be dying a… _permanent_ death anytime soon." Marie took her paper cup and twirled it around in her hands, staring at it in mild curiosity but she did not drink, "Which means, darling, that you must be an _exceptional_ one. So, although you know not what your fate entails, allow me to be the first to welcome you."

Della was starting to get a little fed up with the riddles and the casual chit chat about her inevitable death. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman's unimpressive theatrics and spoke sharply, "Welcome me to what? What are you talking about? How could you get more dead than just _dead_?" Clearly, this woman was missing from her padded cell in the closest mental hospital in Louisiana.

Della briefly entertained the idea of googling if such a woman had escaped recently, God knows she didn't ever bother turning the news on the television to find these things out.

"You will soon see," Marie's ever present smile faded into a dark and almost forlorn expression as she warned, "A word of caution from one who was once in your position, do not fight the Kings for you will lose your battle," Marie raised elegantly from her chair, running a hand over Della's hair while the latter sat almost frozen in her spot, "however, little bird, you may just win the war. I must leave."

"Bu-" Della started, but Marie was already moving at a fast pace towards the door.

As far as weird shit goes, that one topped the list of weird shit that's happened to Della in her life. And Della had an incredibly sexy yet stalker-ish Italian following her around. She sat frozen, eyes looking out the door where Marie had disappeared, contemplating the woman's strange words, appearance, and actions. Hell, everything about the woman was sending up red flags to Della. What had she been talking about, though? Joining them, welcoming Della, warning her about these 'kings' losing a battle but winning a war?

Was she about to be initiated into some sort of cult without her consent?

Not for the first time Della considered leaving New Orleans, if only for her own safety. It seemed like this place was like a plate of pancakes, except the pancakes were actually problems. More pancakes kept getting stacked on the plate and Della was just waiting for the syrup to overflow and start leaking all over the table.

But then, if she left NO, would Demetri actually follow? Or could she ask him to come with? Surely he couldn't keep moving around with her, most people wouldn't. Her brief understanding of him was telling her that he absolutely _would_ follow her even if she did not offer for him to come with.

But again, why did she want him to come with? She knew very little about him, and what she did know about him made literally no sense at all when she combined it together. He had shared only slight details of his life story with her and most of it was vague. She still didn't trust him, how could she when he only spoke half-truths? Especially after having lied about tattooing his eyes red. Clearly, they were the same red as Marie's had been the day before.

Where they in the same cult together? _Pale skin, red eyes, strangely beautiful and melodic voices._ Della thought to herself. What could it mean? Surely the New Orleans woman didn't have any connections to the Italian man? How could they?

But the two looked both different and the same. Two different races but… the same species, maybe?

It just wasn't adding up. Della groaned to herself, what did she mean the same species? That didn't make any sense! This wasn't a movie; this was the real world!

"Delphia?"

Della jumped, startled by the noise. She had been glaring at the top of her now closed laptop as if it had offended her and thinking at about a thousand miles per minute, neglecting her vigilant watch on the door for Demetri. Attempting to stuff her worries away for later, Della looked up at Demetri and forced a smile, "Wow, you really do find people. Well done!"

Demetri's face did not look like one ready for jokes this morning. His eyes were set in a hard stare and he seemed unmistakably frustrated. He made no move to sit across from Della, his entire body rigid as he stared down at her. Della took notice to the fact that there were no unattractive purple bags underneath his eyes, despite having not slept much himself, and he had the brown contacts over his red eyes once again.

"You are distressed, what has happened?"

Groaning internally, Della decided that it might be for the best that she actually answered this question, if only to ease Demetri, who seemed about ready to rupture blood vessels. "Okay here's the basic rundown, there's a woman I met yesterday and then again today who has said some things that kind of a little bit freaked me out. It's nothing I can't handle; I'm thinking about just avoiding her at all costs. See her coming and dodge sort of thing."

"Do not fear, Delphia, I am sure she will not bother you again." Demetri stated confidently and coolly. Della could feel that his words were sincere, and something washed over her. She felt like he was going to do something rash and possibly put himself in peril. But… that would mean he knew _exactly_ who Della was talking about. Della struggled to keep her mind from contemplating the implications of this, especially because it was a gut feeling, not a fact.

"Please don't do anything stupid on my account."

Demetri laughed, the sound like a balm thrown over Della's frazzled nerves, "Oh _bambolina_ , nothing _I_ do is ever stupid."

Della snorted outright. "Yes, I'm sure you are the picture of intellect and propriety, never have you been overcome by male instinct to, how do they say it, to fluff your feathers?" she questioned playfully, standing and packing her laptop back into its bag.

"Of course not, Delphia, my feathers are perfectly fluffed at all times. There's no need to make a display of doing so among the lesser men." Demetri grinned playfully.

Della made to throw her laptop bag around her shoulders so she could carry it easily but Demetri caught it and was holding it in his left hand, his right hand wrapping around hers as if he was supplying a security blanket to her person for all eyes to see. He leaned in and kissed her hairline. "I had intended to give you grief over your distasteful note, however considering the sate I found you in I will let it slide for today. However, now that I have found you where do you intend to go, _bella cara_?"

Della shrugged, guessing he was only joking about giving her grief and letting it slide, "First, we should probably drop that laptop bag off in my trunk. We can go from there."

"Ah, you are inviting me?" Demetri questioned with a grin stretching across his entire face.

Della felt like an ass for running away and leaving a note for about _three_ seconds, then she was grinning back at him, "Well yeah. You found me, so technically I'm it now but if you can refrain from running off for a little bit I think we can have some fun at one of the museums or maybe the aquarium, that is, if you're up for a little adventure."

They were walking on the sidewalk towards where Della had parked her car now. Demetri was still smiling just slightly, the right corner of his mouth turned up while Della was gaging the storm clouds, wondering when the heavens would open up and the rain would fall, "And what, pray tell, adventures are you thinking of partaking in, _diletto_?"

"You know, Dem, I googled that word. You're not being slick, using pet names in languages I don't understand." Della laughed, still looking up at the sky.

"I am sure I do not know what you are referring too, _bella cara_."

"Of course you don't. Did you check the weather today?"

" _Si_."

"Do you know when it's supposed to rain?"

Demetri looked to the sky and took a breath before looking back down at Delphia, "I estimate less than a minute and it will be pouring. Should we perhaps seek shelter?"

Della let go of Demetri's hand and walked so that she was not standing underneath one of the door overhangs on the sidewalk. She looked up at the sky, squinting at the clouds overhead, "Are you sure it'll pour in less than a minute?" She asked Dem who nodded, his face expressionless. Della looked up at the sky and just as Demetri had said, a droplet of water smacked her on the forehead, laughing, Della looked back at Demetri. "How would you know that? It's starting!"

"I must insist we find shelter from the rain before you become ill, Delphia." Demetri implored from the sidelines, still hiding under the canopy.

"A little cold never hurt anyone before, at least not in an age where medicine cures almost anything!" Della exclaimed happily.

And with a mighty roar of thunder, the heavens unleashed their tears upon the earth and Delphia stood underneath the spray, arms spread wide and a smile stretched across her face, thinking of how the rain signified renewal and cleanliness, something she needed desperately now that she was drawing connections between Marie and Demetri and after the whole fiasco in Detroit, while Demetri still implored her to get under the canopy. Della held out her hand to him, paying no mind to the fact that his clothes probably cost more than most people's weekly salary, "Come on Dem, you can't live your life properly if you're afraid of the rain."

Just like that, Demetri placed his hand in hers and stepped out from under the overhang. Della grinned at him and, with her hand still in his, she took off running down the street and 'pulling' him along with her. She slowed down only long enough to jump into newly forming puddles before finally running into a parking garage. "We better drop off the laptop in my trunk before the rain seeps through the bag and then get back out there. How about we go to the aquarium? Sounds perfect for the weather we're having, right?" Della asked.

Demetri, seemingly holding his breath, quickly commented, "I cast a vote in favor of returning to the motel and drying off first. We have had our fun in the rain, however I would rather you not become ill from remaining in wet clothing."

Della rolled her eyes, "I'm the picture of perfect health. I won't get sick!"

"I believe that history has proven that even the healthiest can die of phenomena." Demetri insisted.

Della sighed, he had a point, "Alright, fine, get in the car. We'll go get dry and then we'll do something fun."

After a few miles in the mustang Della gathered that Demetri did not like her driving. He wasn't subtle about it either, oh no, he clearly stated as much with the constant string of choice words that flew from his mouth in Italian every time she tapped the break too hard or accidentally swerved just a little bit into the median. Della wasn't claiming she was perfect or anything, but she wasn't _that_ bad of a driver, he just needed to calm down. He was wound too tight. It put her in mind of his behavior when it was about to rain.

Della came to the conclusion that Demetri needed to live a little, he was uptight as hell.

After going back to the motel, drying off, and changing into dry clothes Demetri had insisted on being the one to drive them to wherever it was Della planned on going. After fifteen minutes of back and forth arguing, Della finally caved and tossed Demetri the keys to the Mustang. It was another ten minutes later that found them driving down the road in a downpour.

"Demetri, dude, you're killing me. The speed limit is forty-five, not thirty." Della groaned with her head resting against the window of the car, watching people walk down the sidewalks with their umbrellas shielding them from the rain.

Della felt like she was going tortoise speed now that he was driving the car, at his pace the apocalypse would happen before they made it to the aquarium. Demetri was being really awkward about the whole driving thing. He'd insisted calmly, but it was like he'd made up his mind that he would be driving and wouldn't stop persisting until he'd gotten his way. In fact, that _was_ what had happened. He'd argued his case well, in her defense. She hadn't slept much the night before and so she was swerving more than she would normally. That combined with the weather could be lethal, not just to herself but to other drivers.

Feeling the car speed up just slight bit and checked the odometer, "You're still not going the speed limit. You might get pulled over for going too slow."

"Delphia, I am keeping you safe and alive." Demetri calmly explained with a slight smirk that told Della he was laughing at her struggle internally.

Grumbling something about not getting any younger, Della said nothing more. Flashing a smile at Demetri as she turned the radio on, "Hey what kind of music do you like?" Della questioned as she scanned through the stations.

Demetri shrugged, "I prefer composers of the Renaissance and Baroque periods."

"Classical stuff?" Della crinkled her nose and laughed, "I can see that, you seem the type. Then again, most movies portray serial killers as the type to listen to classical music. Are you a serial killer, Dem?"

"I am not dignifying that question with an answer."

Della laughed, looked down at her phone, and pointed to the left of the intersection they were coming to, "Turn here."

 _At least he takes directions really well_ , Delphia thought to herself as Demetri immediately merged into the left turning lane. Demetri pulled into the parking lot that they came up to, "So the aquarium then?" He asked as he parked the car as close to the doors as he could get.

Della nodded her head, "Yeah, it's indoor so we won't get any more wet. Besides, I haven't been to one of these in forever and I found online coupons." She made to get out of the car and Demetri placed his hand over her arm, tossing her a sly grin.

Della sat confused at his grin as he got out of the car and opened an umbrella. She huffed, shook her head, and smiled as he walked over to her side of the car and opened the door, holding the umbrella over where she would step out. He was paying to mind to his own clothes. All Della could think was 'Aww' as Demetri extended his hand and leaned down. She took it like one of those classy women in movies and let him help her out of the vehicle, wishing she was wearing heals and a ball gown to complete the image.

"Let us view these aquatic animals you seem to be ecstatic about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Voodoo Ritual stuff that I put in here is entirely and absolutely from my own head and therefore more than likely not real at all. I researched a little bit but really just meshed a bunch of different things I've seen done with magic and made it into this weird thing. So real Voodoo is probably really far off of what I'm doing here, just be aware of that. I'm taking artistic liberties. Fucking witches guys! I know it's not completely cannon compliant, but something never sat right with me when it came to 'talented humans making gifted vampires' so I am rolling with it.
> 
> talian: Bambolina – little doll
> 
> Creole: Bay lòd m 'je pou m' wè tan kap vini an ou gen entansyon pou li. - Grant me sight for me to see the future you intend for she.


	11. Chapter Ten

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Ten**

" _Perhaps a time frame is in order? I will wait until the midnight hour for your leader, or heads will roll and your bodies will burn."_

Demetri didn't know how Della could operate on just a few hours of sleep and still be bounding around the aquarium like she was. It was as though he was tasked with watching over a human child who had never seen the ocean, or even a fish, before and the child had been given far too much sugar or other source of stimulant. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she seemed to take in the different breeds, shapes, and species. Each tank they passed caused a renewed awe in Delphia's ocean blue orbs that Demetri could hardly fathom, having seen just about everything the world had to offer in his years he wondered how it would be to be a human, discovering something new with each passing day.

She truly was light. The brightest light in his dim and dark existence. He would be damned if anyone would take that from him. After having found the note stuck to his door that morning Demetri had been relieved to see, when using his gift (admittedly, he should have been watching her more closely and more frequently, an oversight he was now remedying), that Della had not left New Orleans in his absence, rather, was simply attempting to _toy_ with him. He had been put out, at first. He could count on a single hand how many had dared to toy with him over the last millennia, and the majority of those daring vampires had been efficiently neutralized. Demetri, at first, had every intention on walking into that café and giving his mate a piece of his mind, a thorough verbal lashing, until he'd picked up Marie's scent and witnessed the distress on his mate's features.

A sight, he found, that he strongly detested.

She did not grant him the entire truth when she spoke of the woman who was bothering her. Unbeknownst to Della, Demetri had already put all of the pieces together, the only issue was that he did not know what Marie had said to her, and that was going to prove challenging. Nevertheless, he would be paying a visit to Marie just as soon as Della was safely tucked away in her bed. He had thought that by keeping Delphia's presence unknown to the local coven he would be doing his mate and himself a favor, but it was clear that all he had done was draw more attention to her. It was a situation he would rectify immediately.

For once, this was something within his power to change. He could keep Delphia safe from Marie or any other physical threat. The thought alone caused a miniscule shred of peace to wash over his frayed nerves. He could protect Delphia, at very least.

"Dem, have you ever pet a manta ray?" Della asked, bouncing over to him and grasping his hand, practically dragging him to the large tank that an attendant was standing by, popping her gum unenthusiastically as she reminded the children not to touch the heads or tails of the animals as they swam by.

"I cannot say that I have." Demetri admitted, thought mentally he added _though I have wrestled several lions, panthers, and helped with the desolation of a few regimes, in my day._ He wished he could tell her that, perhaps then she would be a bit impressed by his exploits, at least.

Della just smiled, flashing her bright white teeth and causing slight crinkles to form at the edge of her eyes. The action lit her entire face like the Vatican on Christmas. Demetri paused, and quickly banished his previous wish as he drank in her expression. It was not so much that she was smiling at him, as it was the _way_ she was smiling at him. She looked at him, blue eyes shining with an emotion that he could not place, as if he wasn't just mediocre, as if even his lapse of experience with this… petting of the aquatic animal phased absolutely nothing within her in regards to her thoughts about him. In fact, she seemed as though she was… pleased to know that he had not had this experience. Suddenly, Demetri felt more than happy to give Delphia this. He smiled back at her, though he could not stop himself from wondering how her gaze would be effected once she knew the truth, would it remain or would it fall?

Would she see him as a monster, like surely most humans would, or something else entirely?

How would he justify to her, a human who seemed to hold humanity is such high regards, with the way she treated others of her kind, that he regularly murdered her kind? How would he rationalize turning her into something that slaughtered what she so often protected herself? Demetri began developing a list of his favorite activities and abilities that had come with immortality, as a way of explaining that trade off. Humanity or Immortality both had their advantages and disadvantages, some more than others. To Demetri, immortality and all that came with it far outweighed all of what humanity had offered him.

Again, Demetri was allowing himself to drift into the future and not remain in the present. Coming back to himself, he focused in on what Delphia was articulating.

"- and make sure to wash your hands, then we can pet them. They won't sting."

She was running her hands under a small stream of water in a sink that was stationed right before the petting tank. He followed suit and then followed her over to the reservoir. Della reached her hand into the water and brushed her fingers over the top of a turtle beneath the water. "Go ahead, Dem." She encouraged gently.

 _How would the animals react to my skin_? he wondered as he dipped his right hand beneath the surface of the water, watching as the ripples from his breech moved across the water. His heightened vision allowed him a better depth perception than any human, and he was easily able to tell just when his hand would reach the top of the turtle, and knew that in 6.2 seconds, based on the way the manta ray was swimming, the stinger would brush against Delphia's hand before she could brush the animal itself, if she did not move in those few seconds.

"Della, are you sure they will not sting?" He asked, concerned. He had quickly glanced over the fact sheets that were on the wall near them before Della had decided they would pet the animals. Were a manta ray to sting her Della may suffer for it. If he could prevent such incidents he would do so gladly, as the sting from the animal could not affect him.

Delphia just nodded, fearlessly stretching so that she could pet the creature as it swam by, "They snip the end of the tails like once a month. I saw it on the discovery channel a bazillion years ago, in 2012." She winked and then stretched in an attempt to touch the clown fish that was doing everything in its minimal power to evade her by swimming farther away.

"Yes, three years is obviously an eternity." Demetri would have rolled his eyes, where he a lesser man.

Noting that every manta ray in the tank methodically sawn counter clock wise, as if they were racing along an invisible track, Demetri's hand brushed the animal as it swam by. Somewhat surprised, Demetri pulled his hand upwards a fraction, he had not intended for the animal to have felt to smooth. He hadn't known what he had preconceived the manta ray to feel like, but surely not as smooth as it had been.

Demetri was distracted from his musings when Della snatched her hand out of the tank with a yelp and a hiss of pain. Meeting Demetri's concerned glance Della explained, "The turtle bit me," Demetri was baffled as she laughed and shook the water from her hand, "ugh, jackass! I'm washing my hands."

Demetri chuckled and withdrew his hand from the water, wandering over to the sink where Delphia was scrubbing her hands vigorously. Clearly she was not bleeding, he would smell it if she were, so her mumbling had more to do with whatever minuscule amount of pain she was feeling. "At least the other animals did not sting," Demetri reasoned while attempting to school his mirth.

Snorting, Della grabbed a handful of paper towels, drying her now clean hands while Demetri washed his. Just as Demetri was turning to gather his own towels Della tossed hers at his face, grinned when he caught them, and started to walk quickly away. Growling playfully, Demetri followed her at a human pace as she gradually walked faster, wet hands forgotten.

He caught up to her easily, wrapping his arms around her middle and dragging her to him so her back was pulled tightly against his chest. She was trembling with laughter and he earned a deep waft of her floral scented shampoo along with the underlying and tantalizing scent that was uniquely _Della_ as she did so. Demetri almost couldn't stop himself as he buried his nose in the top of her hair instinctively, he would never tire of Della's scent. As soon as he took a deep breath of Della's scent he was overwhelmed by the pulsing vein that his mouth was only a few inches from. All he would have to do is move his head a fraction upward and his mouth would be perfectly aligned to bite.

"Hey Dem, not that this position is undesirable or anything but I think we should go upstairs and see the birds."

Demetri was shaken from his revere, they were in public surrounded by humans and yet Demetri couldn't stop himself from getting far too close to Delphia's alluring blood. He allowed himself to be dragged up towards what he assumed to be an aviary as he regained control of himself.

As they moved closer to the room Demetri was not all to surprise to hear the fluttering of wings and the sounds of birds coming from the room ahead of them. Della pulled him into the room, he wasn't sure why he was allowing this small woman drag him everywhere, despite the fact that she was his mate. In reality all he would have to do would be decide he no longer wished for it to be so and she would quite possibly fall to the ground as he stopped moving and she continued to.

Once they were in the room Demetri's sense of smell was overridden with the scent of bird droppings and the animals themselves, fluttering about outside of cages. Delphia grinned up at him, her smile causing him to recall why he was enduring this trip and these animals. Instead of protesting, he simply stopped breathing as to avoid the smell.

"Demetri, look, he's crawling into my purse!" Della laughed as one green and red colored bird hopped around, seemingly looking for entrance into Delphia's small bag.

Seeing Della's delight, Demetri allowed a small smile to grace his lips as well.

Until he heard, rather than felt, something slap onto the shoulder of his Armani jacket.

Della sucked in a breath and then burst out laughing.

Demetri growled as he looked over his right shoulder.

"I can't," she paused to catch her breath in between bouts of laughter, "I can't _believe_ a bird just shit on you!" Demetri could smell her tears as Della doubled over, still laughing at him. He could feel his anger rising, and he knew that his eyes were black underneath his contacts. The venom would surely burn through his contacts soon, especially with his anger rising. He could feel the venom now, pooling in his mouth. Though, the sound of Delphia's raucous laughter after having heard her cries of despair not twelve hours prior sobered Demetri, and he found himself stowing his anger for a later purpose and swallowing his venom.

"Come on, let's get you out of that jacket and get some lunch."

 _Lunch indeed._ He thought and Demetri followed Delphia as she walked away, still giggling at his misfortune, but hastily wound his right hand around her left as they journeyed to the front of the aquarium and out into the parking lot, removing his soiled jacket and tossing it into the backseat. Demetri was pleased to note that the rain had not yet ceased and the clouds were still covering the sun. He had been lucky so far, though it wouldn't last. Eventually he would be forced to stay indoors and leave Della unprotected during the daytime hours. It was an eventuality that he did not look forward too. Not for the first time he questioned Della could not have chosen a less… sunny place to explore?

He insisted he drive once again, arguing that she was still tired and therefore a danger to other drivers. Della huffed but allowed it without much of a fight, causing Demetri to wonder if she was always so compliant or was it her lack of rest from the night before and the stress of the situations surrounding her, or perhaps she found the truth in his argument? He couldn't imagine that she would always be so easily convinced of his views. In fact, it seemed as though she had been rather accommodating through all of the insanity that accompanied his sudden appearance into her life.

Now he waited for the ball to drop, as the humans would say. Surely her mental state was in as much if not more turmoil than his was. He was not sure about the capacity of human emotions, but he was willing to wager that Delphia was just one or two more incidents from completely losing it. Too much had happened in too little time, leaving no room for an adjustment period. Demetri reasoned that he would be there when it happened, but the question was would she want him to be?

Demetri drove into the parking lot of the establishment he had retrieved breakfast for Delphia the day before. This time, he did not have to stop her from getting out of the car, she remained seated until he opened the door for her and held his hand out to her. Demetri was surprised that she had not fought him on this, and did not mentioned anything about his opening of doors. He was under the impression that the vast majority of human women in the twenty first century found this behavior demeaning and unacceptable, according to Felix – who tended to conquest human woman with frequency.

Living among vampire females, this was a practice Demetri had not fallen out of, for the Queens or even the women of the Guard would have his head and body inflamed if he were to forget to open their door or help them out of the car. Despite that they could very well do so themselves. It wasn't a statement that women were weak, far from that. It was a show of utmost respect.

Besides, female vampires were sometimes fiercer than their male counterparts. Jane and Alec, for example. Alec was silent, he did as the Kings bid and was happy to do so when called upon for a task, whereas Jane took great pride in bringing pain onto others, and actively sought out the chance to punish regardless of having to be ordered to do so. Not that every vampire woman was as… _sadistic_ as Jane Volturi. They just seemed to feel more human intensity of emotion than the males did. He assumed that human females were much the same.

No, Demetri did not take a chance on disrespecting women, especially not his own mate.

They walked into the restaurant side by side and Demetri noticed that not many humans were patrons of this particular establishment at this time of day. He noted that he was grateful for that, as this kept the background noise to a minimum. They were directed to a booth towards the back of the restaurant. Through the dim lights Demetri could see Della looking around the restaurant, she smiled but it did not reach her eyes until they fell onto his face. The realization of the implication of this caused a feeling of pride to well in his chest.

He quickly excused himself to use the restroom and replace his contacts before making his way back to Della.

"This is a nice place." She said, smiling casually while she dropped her phone and bag in the vacant space next to her.

It was not what she said that told him she thought otherwise, but how she had said it. Her tone lacked the depth it usually held. Demetri, noting that she clearly was not impressed with the _five-star_ restaurant, tilted his head inquisitively, "You do not have to lie to me, _bella cara_."

"Okay, the truth is that this place looks pretentious as hell and I'm wearing jean shorts and an old navy t-shirt with some scuffed up vans I got on clearance two years ago. This looks like the type of place for a prada wearing woman to have brunch with her book club. I am A; severely underdressed B; completely out of my element and C; too broke for this place. It is a nice restaurant, though, don't get me wrong here. I wasn't lying just omitting the full truth, which is something you've done the past three days." Her eyes fell to the ornately folded napkin as she pushed some of her hair behind her left ear.

Demetri just stared at her, in his mind he was going several different directions. Did she not want the very best of meals? This was the best place he could find in the city of New Orleans with the highest of reviews and only the best foods. Surely it did not matter what she wore, and obviously he would be paying for her meal. He couldn't fathom her view on this matter, it seemed silly to worry about something as trivial as clothing and currency. She deserved the world, the least he could do would be to give her this meal, for now. As for her comment about him omitting the truth, she was completely correct, and he felt a wave of guild sweep over him.

But Demetri could not let this behavior stand, Della was worth far more than she realized. She was to be a _Volturi,_ if he had _his_ way. She would be able to _take_ the world, if that was what she wished and he wanted to set her straight right away, "Delphia, your very presence brings a light into this dark world, a light that had not existed until you. You're very being is radiance; it does not matter what clothes are on your back. This Old Navy brand or the very best of Italian fashion, you are the most beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate woman I have ever encountered in this world. You belong in the best of establishments, Delphia, you deserve the world given to you, not on a silver platter but on a most ornate and antique platinum. Please do not doubt this to be true."

Delphia's face grew more and more red her blood rushed to her face, signifying her embarrassment at his eloquent words. He was more prepared today than he had been the day before, and so he felt that today would be a better day to try his hand at wooing his mate. He held his breath, showing the appearance of breathing every few seconds. Della looked as though she couldn't bring herself to speak, her hear beat like a drum in her chest finally began to slow. Demetri smiled, allowing the sound of her slowing beat to soothe his beast.

"I'm really nothing special." She whispered, looking back down at her place setting as the color receded from her face.

Demetri hadn't taken his eyes off of her face at all, even as she bowed her head, and his eyebrows raised of their own accord as she looked up to meet his eyes once more. "After all I declared you would deny my words?"

"I'm not denying anything, I'm merely refuting your opinion," Della smirked, but still looked rather flustered.

Demetri would have argued, but a young woman walked up to the table to take a drink order from the two. Della ordered herself a water and Demetri asked for the same, although he would not drink from the glass.

"Eventually you will see yourself the way I see you, _bella cara_." Demetri promised, staring directly into Delphia's eyes.

Della shrugged, "I think you are seeing me as something that I am not. I'm just a twenty-one-year-old girl, Dem, not much else. If you build me up in your head, like I think you might be doing, I'm almost guaranteed to fail you."

"You could never fail me, Delphia," Demetri insisted, leaning back in his seat. It was strange, listening to his mate refute nearly every statement that came from him. He'd complimented many women in his time, and never had one been so deserving of it until Della, and never had one been so refusing of it until Della as well. His mate, clearly, was one of a kind.

That fact, however, did not make her any less insufferable for not accepting his praises.

The waitress arrived with the beverages and asked if they were ready to order, eyes dilated and looking at Della with lust dripping off her in waves. Demetri fought the urge to growl at the woman. He was clearly sitting there, and obviously _with_ Delphia, yet the waitress didn't seem to acknowledge his existence. What baffled Demetri more was the fact that the waitress seemed completely immune to his vampire charm and appearance. Delphia had not even seemed to notice the waitress' attempts at flirtation as Della asked for what looked to be the cheapest meal on the menu and Demetri fought the urge to roll the woman's head to the floor, departed from its body. Nevertheless, it did not escape his notice that Della had ordered 'cost effectively.' She had to know he would be purchasing this meal? When the waitress finally turned to acknowledge him and asked him for his order, Demetri stated he wasn't hungry in a low and menacing tone.

The waitress' eyes had widened in fear as she walked away. _At least some part of her pathetic human brain is working_ , Demetri seethed to himself. When he finally looked back to Della after contemplating all of the ways he could make the woman suffer for daring to flirt and lust after _his_ mate, her features were clouded with worry.

"Are you sick?" She asked quietly, as if she couldn't fathom the idea.

Demetri laughed out right, " _Bella cara_ , I have not been sick in an eternity."

Della did not look amused by his reaction, "I'm serious, I've never seen you eat. Are you okay?"

His expression softening, placing himself in the shoes of a young human woman for a moment to understand how she felt, Demetri nodded, "I am fine, I simply do not require much sustenance."

Delphia huffed and seemed to complicate something deeply. She was silent and sat staring him in the face for several minutes, unmoving as silent. A few times her mouth opened as if she were ready to say something, but no words came. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, he wondered if she was starting to mold the pieces together to form the whole picture. With everything he had so easily given away or told her outright it wouldn't surprise Demetri if she were to come to some sort of conclusion, and soon.

"I want the truth," Della finally stated, her eyes were hardened, giving off the look of bitter resolve.

Demetri shook his head, "Not yet."

"When?" She demanded in a hushed tone but still held her resolve.

Demetri lowered his voice and whispered almost cryptically, "When you're truly ready."

"I am 'truly ready' as ominous as that sounds. Your half truths are starting to be really fucking annoying." Della shot back, leaning towards him as if she were trying to be sure he could hear her while she whispered angrily.

Demetri fought back a glare at her tone, not at all amused, "No. You are not ready."

~.~.~.~

After dropping a rather angry Delphia and her vehicle off at the motel and making sure any vampire scent other than his own was nonexistent, Demetri stalked off into the night towards where he knew Marie's coven to dwell. Still a bit fumed over how well his day had gone until Delphia argued with him over his omitted truths, Demetri decided that he knew the perfect outlet for his frustrations. He flitted through the bayou quickly, weaving through trees, reveling in the clean and crisp night air, letting his feet hit the swamp land for only fractions of seconds so as not to destroy the Italian leather of his shoes.

They were expensive, it would be a hassle to have to replace them so soon.

The Laveau coven lived several miles from New Orleans in an ancient plantation home that had once housed a particularly cruel slave driver. Other than that simple fact, Demetri did not know much of the history behind where this particular coven had chosen to settle. Though, knowing what he did about Marie's gift he guessed that the house rested on consecrated ancestral grounds, slaves having been murdered in droves on the property causing for a residual effect of angry entities and ancient power, and thus Marie's gift more than likely held a heavy influence over the property. However, this was simply an educated guess. Demetri had been the one to research and investigate this particular manifestation of witch power over a century ago, and he knew more than most what these beings were capable of, though he still knew nothing in comparison to what the beings themselves knew.

Demetri flitted onto the property without so much as a warning. A tactic that he figured would give him an element of surprise and therefore Marie would have no time to prepare her coven for his arrival. If he were to discover that her intent with his Della was anything he did not approve of, well, things could get unpleasant rather _quickly_ , Demetri would prefer they not have time to prepare Marie's gift. Usually, as a courtesy to the residing coven unless they were trying to catch them in the action of something illegal, the Volturi would send communication ahead of their arrival. Though today, he was not on Volturi business and his behavior would be perceived as rude he didn't much care.

This was personal. Demetri could not bring himself to care how this coven would perceive him tonight. These vampires in particular did not harbor much respect for the Volturi, though they were begrudgingly law abiding, therefore his behavior should not have any ill consequences. If he felt that Marie and her coven harbored _any_ ill intent, they would be dead and burned long before the day broke over the horizon.

It was technically illegal to slaughter a coven, but Demetri reasoned that Aro would not mind after seeing his reasons. If there were no witnesses the King would let it slide without sharing the truth of the situation with Caius or Marcus. Aro had done so plenty of times before for Alec, Jane, even Felix, and for lesser causes.

On the porch of the plantation house, Demetri took a seat on one of the white rocking chairs that sat off to the side. He waited a mere two seconds before there were three vampires standing around where he sat. The first was an older looking vampire, clearly turned in his forties like Marie had been, his casual but dark modern dress and shaved head gave him a sort of dangerous look. Demetri smirked, not one of these vampires had anything on his experience and training, but he could not allow himself to be fooled by appearances. Alec and Jane were small and childlike in appearance, but together they could devastate _any_ coven large or small. The other two vampires looked completely identical, Demetri gathered that they were twins or at least siblings, and they were young looking, no more than twenty when turned, possibly of Haitian decent, based on his current geographical location, but that was simply an educated guess.

"What do you want, Volturi?" The bald vampire spat in a spiteful tone. He did not seem to be too pleased with Demetri's sudden manifestation on his property.

Demetri gave him a blank look before smirking, intimidation by vexation was possibly Demetri's favorite method. "I am seeking an audience with your coven leader, at her earliest convenience of course."

One of the younger looking vampires spoke up in angry tones, "And by earliest convenience you mean right now." He growled, but still stood far enough away from Demetri to have leverage and possible space to flee to the yard for more space if an attack were imminent. Demetri almost nodded in approval of the vampire's precautions, "Don't pretend you're giving her a choice of time."

"You speak truth, young one. Perhaps a time frame is in order? I will wait until the midnight hour for your leader, or heads will roll and your bodies will burn." Demetri kept his tone level and light as though he hadn't just threatened to destroy their coven with an almost gleeful smile plastered across his features.

The younger vampire who had not yet spoken hissed and crouched into a defensive position. Clearly, this one was not as bright as his brother when it came to aggressive versus defensive stances. Demetri's hand snapped out and caught the vampire, pushing him backwards and shoving his shoulders into the ground, splintering the wood of the porch. The vampire attempted to shake Demetri off, but Demetri hadn't budged, now keenly aware that his opponent's brother had now moved in closer.

In a move faster than light, Demetri had thrown the approaching brother into the tree line and held his left leg in his grasp.

"I suggest you all take up residence inside, if you would like your coven member to earn back his leg. Or we could continue, and I can burn the limb. It is your decision." Demetri stated calmly, almost gleefully, as he resumed his seat on the porch while the vampire that had lost his leg was retrieved by his brother.

The older vampire flitted to his younger coven members and wrapped his arms around the currently immobilized one, dragging him backwards into the house, growling about how foolish it had been to attack a Volturi. Demetri couldn't help but release a half smile, glad to see that the Volturi's reputation was still quite intact despite the situation with the Cullen's less than a decade ago. Aro would be pleased when he saw this moment, even if he was not thrilled with anything else that happened this night.

Demetri didn't have to wait long for Marie to come, the bald vampire had called her the moment he had secured the younger vampires and they were calm enough not to run outside and foolishly attack the Volturi's pet dog once more, their words of course.

"Threatening my coven, Volturi? Surely there are better ways to garner attention?" Marie spoke as she flitted onto the porch.

"Surely." He agreed, crossing his legs, dangling her coven member's limb over his in a tantalizing manner as he proceeded to make a show of 'making himself comfortable.' The leg was dripping venom onto the porch, causing the splinters and cracks to sizzle as the venom's acidic effects began to dissolve the wood. "Please, have a seat." He invited.

Marie rolled her eyes, "Offering me a seat on my own porch? How kind of you, I don't suppose you'll pay for the damages to my home?" she stated sarcastically, but took a seat regardless. Demetri could smell his mate on Marie's clothing, signifying that she had yet to change since her meeting with Delphia that morning. The realization set his senses ablaze again and reawakened his internal beast to the fact that this woman held a danger to his mate.

Not that he had forgotten in the first place. "Speak to your young coven member's about reconstructing the porch, Laveau, it is a problem that matters not to me."

Marie, tiring of the banter, decided it was time to get to the point, "What's this about, Volturi?"

Demetri raised an eyebrow, "You know what this is about, Madame, do not insult me."

Marie chuckled, though the mirth did not meet her eyes, "Your mate is safe from me, Demetri, I do not intend her any harm. Before I knew of her ties to you I had thought of recruiting her myself."

Demetri hadn't the foggiest idea how she could have possibly known about Delphia being his mate, and for how long she had the information. He gathered it had not been more than a day, as she had met Della only the day before and could not have known at that time. He narrowed his eyes at the vampire next to him in questioning. Marie had thought to recruit Della herself? He wondered at the reasoning and intent behind it. Marie was not known for turning many, in fact Demetri hadn't known how many vampires she held in her coven before tonight and so he wondered what they all had in common for her having turned them or allowed them to join. She was a rather private vampire, based on her character and every detail he knew of her from before she left the Volturi. Marie, noticing his movement and questioning glance, decided it would be best to explain before he lost his control and ripped through her coven.

She had seen him do it before.

"Before I knew she was your mate, I had one of my coven look into her. I used my gift to call to my ancestors, which was rather taxing this morning, mind you, I am recovered now not that you care. I thought she would be dead by this afternoon, assuming you had been sent to stalk and kill her, but I called to the ancestors regardless because I sensed her… _potential_. My ancestors saw fit to grant me with a brief vision of the girl, in which I discovered her ties to you. I had only hoped to recruit her myself and save her from future torment at the hands of the Volturi, no offense. Now that I see she is your mate I will keep my distance. She is special, your Della, surely you can tell? Aro will be pleased." Marie rocked in her chair during her testimony, smirking slyly at Demetri while he sat stoic, cataloging everything she said.

Running over the words Marie had stated he couldn't find a dual purpose. Having been among the Volturi so long doing so had become a second nature to Demetri, especially living with Aro who had a dual and something triple purpose behind every statement. He contemplated her words closely, the last sentences resonating with him the most. "How much did you see," he growled out, not at all content with the idea of Marie having seen the future of his mate, "She is... gifted?" He hadn't witnessed anything that would point to Delphia having a gift, though many times vampires couldn't sense talent in humans, gifts tended to manifest once the individual was turned. If his Delphia was gifted, it would cement her position among the Volturi and therefore give them more time together, if Aro thought her powerful enough for field missions.

At the same time, it may be cause for Della to be turned into a tool of the Volturi, depending on how powerful of a gift she had. From his ascertained knowledge of Delphia as a human, he couldn't discern how she would feel about such a position. It was possible that she would not wish for such a fate, in which case he did not know what path to take.

Marie nodded, though her eyes betrayed her as she became clearly proud of the knowledge she held that Demetri did not, "Not much, only that she will be a vampire. Based on what I did see, I say she will give the world renowned witch twins a run for their title, given time. Now, please, I would rather not have an acidic hole the size of Texas to fix. Give me Beau's leg and be on your way."

Demetri handed the leg to Marie and stood, "You may have the leg as a measure of good faith, if I catch the scent of any of your coven within a mile radius of Delphia the consequence will be dire."


	12. Chapter Eleven

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Eleven**

_Ugh, it's like a real life X-Men movie._ _I'm waiting for Wolverine to come running out._

After Demetri had dropped her off Della fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She hadn't even stirred again until seven in the morning when Demetri entered the room, once again without permission, and placed a bag of food on the table. Della raised her eyebrows at his entrance and growled in slight annoyance, recalling their argument from the day before. She rolled to the other side of the bed and threw the covers back over her head, grunting and snuggling deeper into their warmth. It was true what they said, give them an inch and they would take a mile. Demetri's obvious disregard for her privacy pretty much screamed this.

"I brought breakfast."

At this, Della's eyes shot open and she threw the covers back. She stumbled out of bed and grabbed some shorts and a shirt before shutting herself into the bathroom for a quick shower to wake herself up. She looked at the clock as she exited the washroom, noting that she'd slept a good ten hours. The smell of the bacon he brought entered her nostrils and she gave Demetri a sarcastic sort of smile as he sat much like he had the other day, leaning back slightly, giving off a relaxed yet aristocratic look.

Christ, did he look amazingly hot.

 _Focus, dude._ _You're not happy with him right now._ Della scolded herself, the fact that Demetri had let himself in without asking pushed to the back of her mind as she eyed the bag sitting on the table. "You've _got_ to stop buying me food or I'll be in debt forever." She stated, plopping into her seat and pulling the food from the bag.

"As I have said before, you owe me nothing."

Della was already ten miles into the meal, scarfing it down like it was her last dinner before the execution block. She looked up at Demetri unapologetically smiling over her table manners.

Demetri chuckled and shifted in his seat so that he was leaning forward, one elbow on the table with his hand cradling his face while the other arm stretched over the table. His hand grasped her free one and she noticed the coolness of his hand on hers, not for the first time, giving her a slight shiver at the feeling that it caused to surge within her body. It was quite possible for her to become addicted to the feeling he gave her, especially when his skin touched hers.

By now she was becoming accustomed to the temperature of his skin, though she could hardly comprehend it. With all of the events taking place in her life, she felt that she should be focusing on something other than Demetri but she couldn't help that for some unknown reason her mind wanted to decipher the truth behind this strange man. The argument they'd had the day before was not nearly forgotten, but she found herself struggling to keep up with her anger as it slowly vanished. It was as if her body, heart, and mind were all in agreeance that Demetri _mattered_ and his life story, the reasons behind is oddities, were as important to her as eating or sleeping. These details he had yet to share with her were necessities, something she _had_ to know.

After weighing her options, Della decided it was time to ask a specific question and hope that he would indeed answer instead of simply stating he would tell her when she was _ready_. That line was growing tedious and she was ready to know _something_ , at very least.

"Can I ask you a question, Demetri?" Demetri's left eyebrow raised in question and Della took this as a sign to move on even before he nodded his head just slightly, "I thought that it might be because you were sick, but now that you've told me you're not, it begs the question: Why are you so cold? I don't want to argue about it, I just think that I need to know a few things if I am to continue trusting you the way I've been trying to." Though she did not quite trust him, she was indeed _trying_.

Demetri seemed to contemplate the answer for a moment. Just when she figured he was going to tell her she wasn't ready to hear it yet, he spoke, "My body temperature runs far lower than yours, therefore I am cold to your touch."

Della nodded and laced her fingers with his. She wasn't completely accepting of whatever it was he was trying to tell her, but within the last couple of days she had realized that he wouldn't hurt her, and on some basic level she just _knew_ that he was doing the best he could. The fact that he was telling her something, something that seemed to be very imperative to him, told her that he trusted _her_ completely and unconditionally.

Della wasn't going to betray that, even while she still worked out her own thoughts and feelings. She still wasn't sure how she felt about him, either. Certainly, she held lustful thoughts about him, and yes she felt like he was someone she could take with her on her travels. But Della had for _years_ hated the very idea of relationships. Della believed men to be vultures and parasites, a belief that extended from her time in New York, then in walks Demetri and he causes a shift in the paradigm. She could see herself spending a lifetime and then some of adventure with him, but she still had yet to trust him. He had done nothing to earn it. This man, who had walked into her life in a bar a thousand miles away not six days ago and hadn't left her consciousness since. This man, who trailed across the country to follow her based on an idea that _fate_ had intended them to meet.

He clearly held no qualms about propriety, that was for sure. But, again, Della couldn't bring herself to care much. Had he harbored malicious intent he would have and very well could have, if her instincts were correct, killed her or kidnapped her already.

Della nodded after a few seconds of deliberation, "And… _why_ does your body run at a lower temperature?" She was mentally running through all of the reasons a body literally could not function properly at such a low temperature, and how he wasn't dead from hypothermia in that case.

"I can't tell you that yet."

Della ground her teeth in frustration.

"If you keep that up you will cause harm to yourself." Demetri sated, his face was expressionless and unmoving, like stone.

Della couldn't help it; she was annoyed at his insistence she remain ignorant to whatever it was that he was hiding. This meant that whatever he was hiding was either horrible or stupid. She was banking towards horrible and with hardly anything to go on she was starting to question her own sanity.

Maybe it was the loss of Gramps, on top of leaving Detroit and heading south, then Demetri following her and finding out that her aunt was missing and the house burnt to the ground that had Della feeling like she was about ready to snap. She didn't know. But if she didn't get a couple more answers then she was going to go ape shit.

Della took a long, deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out again. "Okay. Then answer me this; how do you find people?"

At this question, Demetri smiled fondly and released Della's hand to move back into his old leisurely position. "It is a gift, somewhat difficult to explain really. It has nothing to do with modern computers or cameras as most of your, what are they called... James Bond movies? What I do is as natural to me as breathing."

"So," Della began trying to put what he'd said together, "basically you were born with it? How does it work?" Della asked, tossing her finished bag of food into the waste basket, making a mental note to take that out before she checked out that day to move on to the campground. She didn't want to move, or breath for that matter because one wrong move might force him to actually stop talking and she wanted to know everything she could while he was in a sharing mood.

To tell the truth, she was surprised he answered this question. She wondered if Demetri was like a superhero or something. Like Captain Amer- okay no he wasn't even close to the righteous super soldier, Demetri seemed like a far saner version of Loki. She discreetly looked him up and down, yes, definitely like a sane version of a super villain. _Though he's not really evil as far as I can tell,_ she thought. Della was starting to think of Demetri as less of a Godsend and more of a _fallen angel_ type, but not quite a demon.

What the hell was wrong with her? Clearly, something wasn't right in her head to instantly believe the shit that just came out of his mouth.

She lost her train of thought as Demetri continued to speak.

"Essentially the general definition of my gift is that I have a tracker sense. To be completely forthcoming in this regard, I am the most formidable tracker in the world" Demetri boasted giving off an air of pride, "No one has ever matched me, and no one has ever evaded me. I have a mental connection with any individual I come into contact with. It is much like a cord snapping out of my mind and latching into another's, thus connecting their mind to my own. From there, all I must do is strum the cord like one would a guitar string and I can discern their location from the information that is fed to me through the connection. The most challenging part of my gift is tracking someone that I have yet to meet. Typically, I can catch the individual in question's mind tenors in another mind that has encountered this person and follow the feedback, it is more difficult but eventually I find whomever I am commissioned to."

Della was rather stunned by Demetri's gift, "That's… wow. Is it an unconscious thing or do you have to focus to get the information?"

Della would have been certain that Demetri was fucking with her if it weren't for the fact that his face looked so incredibly serious. Clearly he wasn't joking, or at least he thought himself to be speaking the complete truth. She'd had this idea that he was different from other people since she met him again in New Orleans. How else could one explain that he just showed up out of nowhere, almost materializing in front of her, when she needed a little help? How else could you justify red eyes and ice cold skin? Della knew she wasn't going crazy, these things that Demetri was professing were _true_ , but that didn't stop her from briefly considering who needed to be dragged to the mental hospital more, Demetri for thinking he had this tracker gift or herself for actually _believing_ him.

In her defense, his conviction was rather conclusive.

"In the beginning, the information would simply come to me but after a while I was able to understand the cords in my mind and when I developed my talent further and would only seek out other's locations when I needed to know where they were or needed to find them." Demetri explained, a small smile gracing his lips. "It is my gift, and therefore I use it whenever I need to, as others of my kind use theirs to their own gains and advantage."

"So that's how you were able to keep up with me and find me yesterday morning? That's pretty creepy," at Demetri's raised eyebrow Della back peddled, "but cool. Creepy but cool."

Demetri simply chuckled, "I have heard far worse. Some say I am the Volturi's most famous hunting dog."

"Do you like that job title?" Della asked, still not sure why she was going along with this, especially not sure why the hell she had the feeling that he _wasn't_ lying.

Maybe they could drive to the crazy house together in her car, save on gas.

"Indeed."

"How long have you worked with the Volturi, and hold on, you said others? I'm assuming you mean the Volturi themselves are like you and that's why you joined them?"

Demetri seemed to contemplate this answer longer than the others. Della figured this would go on the list of questions to ask 'when she was ready' because she wasn't ready for the entire truth yet, in his eyes. Della wondered if, perhaps, what Demetri was explaining could actually be possible. Was it true? Was he gifted like this, did he literally run a lower body temperature from her, were there others? It wasn't making much sense. She was missing several pieces of the puzzle. Clearly, the information he was withholding was the most imperative, the facts that would help her to understand.

And he said there were _others_ , ' _others of my kind use theirs to their own gain_ ' did that mean that the woman, Marie, might be one of the said others? That would explain the red eyes and the pale haze over their skin. She didn't know how to broach the subject of Marie just yet, so she waited for Demetri's answer instead of bombarding him with other questions. But these others had gifts like Demetri, though different from him.

 _Ugh, it's like a real life X-Men movie._ _I'm waiting for Wolverine to come running out_ , she thought.

Della wondered if she should push the issue, to see if he would just out everything to her, once he'd answered all of the questions he deemed that he could. What did she have to lose in trying? She was getting really fed up with waiting around for him to decided he could tell her. But what if he truly meant what he said when he stated she wasn't _ready_ for the truth? What if he was some sort of Demon or murderer and for some reason he thinks that she would be alright with that after another few days of being around him? If that were the case, then perhaps it would be better to just rip it off like a band aid and spare them both further pain.

Did demons even actually exist? Della figured they might, was Demetri one? Had her thoughts about him in the beginning been this far off? Too many questions welled up in her mind and she wasn't gaining enough answers to quench her imagination. He didn't seem like a demon, no she wouldn't accept that as the reality of what Demetri was. Clearly, he was more of the fallen angel type, once good and then cast out to be something else entirely, but he still wasn't lost. If that were the case... then he still had some kind of humanity left in him, that much was clear, and perhaps that's what brought him to her? Wait, what did that thought even mean.

This was entirely confusing. In Demetri's defense she did ask.

 _Here I am actually going along with this, what is wrong with me?_ Della asked herself again. She could feel a pain forming in her chest as anxiety started to climb. She still believed him, but she was having trouble believing that she believed him. Her inner turmoil went on as Demetri answered the question.

"I do not think I should share this just yet. Suffice it to say that I have been with the Volturi for longer than you can imagine."

Della shrugged at this response, speaking to assure him, "I'm pretty sure I can imagine a long time. You've got me thinking you're some kind of demon or superhuman or maybe even a fallen angel."

"Two of those have to do with religion and one is fictional. I am none of those things. I doubt you will guess the truth, _diletto_ , please do not over think my answers. I will tell you in a few weeks' time, when you are ready." Demetri implored, eyes portraying a sadness in their depths that Della had never seen, it was almost as if…

"Dem, are you in pain?" she asked carefully, the look in his eyes made him seem like he was suffering some sort of horrible torment. Della placed her hand over top of the one that rested on the table just in front of him, taking comfort in the feelings that shot through her chest as she did so and Demetri offered a small smile, his body seemed to relax slightly at the touch, allowing Della's discomfort to lessen, although her anxiety was still a dull throb.

Chuckling and waving his free hand as if her concerns were unwarranted, "No, I am simply having difficulty keeping the truth from you, _bella cara_ , I wish to lay it all on the table and damn the consequences, but it is not time for that yet. I apologize for keeping secrets from you, of all those I have known and all of the lies and half-truths that have slipped past my lips both accidentally and intentionally I wish more than anything I did not have to be any less than completely forthcoming with you."

Della wasn't sure what she was meant to say here. They had already discussed that they felt a deeper connection to each other. Was this part of it? Should she ask? She couldn't keep her mind on one track, it kept veering off on several different thoughts but the one thing every thought had in common was Demetri.

"Why?" she practically whispered, deciding that she wanted to know, if he would tell her.

He shook his head, "Not yet."

After those words, Della could no longer keep it together. She could feel as though some thread in her brain between her temple and her ear on the right side pulled tight, and then gave way. In layman's terms, Della felt herself snap. Her body wound tight and she snorted with laughter, hysteria, and on the brink of tears as she started thinking about the implications of Demetri's gift, and thinking his cold temperature and the fact that there were more like him out there. Her brain wanted to put things together but it literally couldn't fathom two things. One, how the fuck she didn't think he was lying. And Two, why he was telling her anything, because surely this would be one of those 'I would tell you, but then I would have to kill you,' moments. "You've got to be kidding me? Do you want to drive, or should I?"

Demetri looked confused and a bit unsure as Della continued to laugh and tears began to form in her eyes. In fact, Demetri looked like he didn't have a clue what had happened and why she was practically a hyena at the moment, but then still looked like she was going to cry. Della assumed he settled for middle ground and just answered the question, "Drive?"

"Yes, drive, to the mental hospital, I think we both need to be committed."

"Delphia, I am not jesting." His eyes went from red to black as tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she did not notice this change.

Della was starting to hyperventilate. The weight of everything that had happened in Detroit in the past couple of weeks and now the information she was finally receiving from Demetri were getting to her. The things he was saying were like something out of a book or a movie. There was no way they could be true. But he was telling her these things with such open honesty, the parts that he felt he could tell her. It was starting to be too much. Mental tracking ability? This was just as unreal and illogical as her strange pull to him and how she was feeling towards him after only a few days of knowing him. All of this, combined with everything that had happened in the last two weeks was just about too much. Gramps' death, his funeral, Mary going missing and the house burning down, it was too much. Della just wanted to travel for Christ sakes!

Della stood and began pacing back and forth from in front of the bed, from the table to the bathroom and back again while she tried to control herself. None of it made any sense!

The worst part was that she _believed_ him, and that was what had her so undeniably freaked out.

Della felt strong arms wrap around her stomach and a solid wall press against her back the third time she had turned to pace back towards the bathroom. He breathing evened out rather quickly as Demetri whispered in his native language… well, maybe his native language, Della wasn't sure. It became obvious that there _was_ a strong possibility that he knew so many languages because he seriously _was_ older than he could remember. That brought on a whole other set of contemplations that Della was attempting to wrestle down. She focused on Demetri, his presence and closeness like a comforting balm that spread through and over her. She was calming in his arms. His face buried in her hair and he seemed to be breathing her in while he spoke.

She couldn't figure out what he was. She'd realized the other day that Demetri couldn't possibly be normal. She'd not thought that he could truly be _inhuman_ until now. And now that she was thinking more calmly about it the idea of him being a sort of fallen angel made sense, but Demetri said he wasn't that. So Della decided she would think mythological instead of religion and fiction.

But it was no use; her mind was whipping around a thousand different paths at the same time. All she could understand was that Demetri, the sweet guy who'd brought her breakfast twice in the four days they'd been around each other, saved her from getting her face punched in, followed her based on a feeling that they were fated to know each other (which was still creepy but he was on his way to forgiveness for that), and had a wonderful day out together the day before, despit was definitely not of the same _species_ as she was.

"Delphia, please, what part has you distressed? Allow me to explain it the best I can."

She was beginning to put it together that she really _couldn't_ have handled the whole truth at one time, he had been right. Any more and she would run, and as much as she didn't want to run just yet, she was _right now_ fighting the urge to get in the car and drive away as fast as the car would go. Which was pretty fast considering she had a muscle car. She was fighting the urge to move on, try to escape and go back to the way things were. Now, more than ever, Della was missing the simplicity of her ten years on the road with her mom. Though she knew that he would find her Della hoped he might give her space to process for tonight. If he said any more today, she would be gone by tomorrow morning.

Della was once again surprised, as her chest constricted in a painful way at the thought of leaving him behind, and that annoyed her greatly.

"All of it, Demetri, all of it is _inane_! But what's scary as hell is that I _believe_ you. I can't... I don... why? Why do I believe you? What you're saying belongs in stories, not in real life! I just, I don't know why I believe you but the way you explain it, your conviction, you completely have confidence in what you are saying and that is making it so hard for me to refute it!" The tears were falling freely from her eyes now; she couldn't stop them.

Demetri was still holding onto her but he lifted his face from her hair and carefully spun her around so that her face was now in his chest and cradled her head with his hand, holding her closely around the back with his other arm. "I understand why it is difficult for you to trust me, _bella cara_ , and I am grateful that you've begun to do so. The very fact that you have yet to run screaming after I followed you here shows that you have placed your life in my hands, that you believe me now tells me that you trust me not to lie to you, even if you are not consciously trusting of me. You have no awareness of how difficult it is for me not to express to you every answer to every question you could possibly come up with."

Della nodded into his chest, taking in the smell of a retail store. She couldn't handle any more today, well this morning anyways, things were getting to heavy. Deciding to take this opportunity to deflect so she could focus on the issue later without all of the angst of discussing it with him Della changed the subject entirely, "Hey Dem, did you buy this recently? It still smells like a store."

Demetri laughed outright, the deep baritone flowing through the room and settling the tension that had risen in the air, causing Della to smile as her nerves were effectively vanquished. The effect his laugh had on her should have been concerning, but Della had changed the subject in attempts to calm the intense atmosphere, and Demetri's laugh had sufficed in doing what her change of subject could not.

"I purchased this yesterday. I do not carry much with me in my travels."

Della looked up at him, still hugging him tightly. It should have been awkward, but looking into his eyes she felt… almost serene. Like this was where she belonged.

She'd never felt like she belonged in any one place before. Well, that wasn't completely true. She had belonged with her Mom. Della had never felt at home in a certain _place_ , she had associated this sense with people. One person, in particular. For the longest time she'd had this sense of belonging with her mother. When her mom died, she'd been alone and feeling helpless and abandoned. Until she finished high school she had associated her feelings with that of the homeless on the street, the only difference what that they lost their physical house and the comfort and serenity that came with it. Della had lost her home, in the sense that her home was a person, not four walls decorated to her own desire. She hadn't felt this feeling of comfort and calm since she was sixteen. She was almost shocked for it to wash over her now, this complete sense of _home_ that pervaded her heart, wrapping tightly around her as the realization swept over her.

Demetri was… home?

 _How is that possible?_ She wondered, amazed at the feeling of this new discovery and yet she tried to squash the feeling, to push it away. She didn't know things about him that he was hiding from her. He had yet to be completely honest with her, not to mention they hadn't known each other long at all.

 _Some people get married after two weeks,_ Della's traitorous mind reminded her. Deciding to keep herself from dwelling on this particular idea, especially when she knew so little about Demetri and after all these revelations. Thoughts like this were completely unwelcome at the moment. Della focused back on the conversation at hand.

"So what do you do with the clothes that you buy in your travels?"

Demetri shrugged, "I tend to leave them when I move on."

Della slapped his shoulder, succeeding in only harming herself, "Ouch, damn it! Ugh, Demetri. You should run them through a Goodwill donation center or something. People are out there starving, you can donate the clothes you buy and don't wear!"

Laughing, Demetri lifted Della with ease and planted her back in her seat, she didn't complain, but was shocked at how easy it seemed he was able to lift her and walk with her. Then again, by the feeling of his body against hers she would say he was hiding quite a bit of muscle under those expensive clothes, "I assume that the change of topic means you would like to revisit the conversation at a later time?" Demetri questioned.

Della nodded eagerly, "If you don't mind, I don't know how much more I can handle today. I have to go to the campground, pay, and set up anyways."

Demetri stiffened. Oh yeah, Della hadn't told him that she intended on moving on from the motel today. It was her fourth day. She'd spend too much time in the room as it was and spent too much money doing so.

Wait, who did she feel like she should have told him, anyways? She was a strong independent, if small in stature, woman and she didn't need to answer to a man!

"Campground?" Demetri asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I can't keep staying in this motel, Dem, I'll run out of money," she smiled, regardless of her inner declarations of feminine empowerment because, honestly, she felt like telling him, "besides, I don't mind camping. Living in a tent never hurt anyone before."

Demetri was looking at her, eyes narrowed. He looked like he was contemplating something. Della wasn't sure if she liked the look.

"I have a proposition."

Della raised her eyebrows and pulled away, "Well propose away."

 _Oh hell, did I really just say that?_ Della thought as the heat creeped up her neck and face. Demetri just grinned, "Perhaps someday Delphia," he muttered huskily, kissing her on the forehead just before he stepped over to the other side of the table and took his own seat. "I propose that you allow me to pay for a suite in a hotel of my choosing and you stay with me. You would obviously have your own room and therefore wouldn't have to worry about your privacy."

 _No. No no nonoooo, bad idea Della._ She tried to convince herself.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Twelve**

_"...our cells are not like the cells of a human, they are more flexible, and therefore our… flesh becomes hard and reflective, like crystal or diamond, for instance."_

Out of all the reactions Demetri had prepared himself for he was, once again, surprised by Delphia's response to his revelations. She had not run, like he had thought she would. Though, he hadn't exactly given her the chance to do so. In fact, Demetri had hardly left her side since he had broken the law by giving too much information about his kind to one that was human. The only justification he had was the fact that Delphia _would_ be one of them, and he harbored full intentions of turning her within the next month and a half.

He could now understand Edward Cullen's position in allowing his mate to find out about their kind, though with Edward he had been attempting to sever the connection to his mate like a _fool_ , regardless of his 'noble' human could not bring himself to separate from Delphia, especially not now that he had been close enough to learn her, he was addicted and pulling himself from her would be like depriving a vampire of blood.

Demetri had been on respite just over two weeks now. He had done more than he had originally planned on doing and had also been forced to wait in his attempts to court his mate while she was grieving for her grandfather, and then he had been forced to follow her as she set off to travel south. At least at this point she was beginning to learn about his kind, and she had voiced how she had felt their connection. Although things were not going according to Demetri's multiple and forever changing plans, they were at least beginning to move forward well enough and for now that would have to do.

Staring at Della's glorious red hair across the room from him Demetri wondered what he had done in his insanely long existence to earn such a mate. The more time he spent around her the farther he fell into a sort of lightened waking abyss, shrouded in a heat and warmth that he'd not experienced in millennia. It was as if the sun, that had not held much in the way of warmth for him in his waking memory, had suddenly blessed him with its generous plethora of rays through this small and fragile human girl. She was radiance personified, her very pores seemed to glisten as though the sun's rays came pouring out of her alone. It was as if science had it wrong for millennia, and the world had been a dark and cold place until Delphia.

Of course, Demetri knew this was not true for anyone but him, however he did not much care about how others would perceive his mental exaggerations. No one would ever hear them, unless he ran across the Cullen's again, he nearly growled at the idea of it.

Still, he could not believe he had convinced Delphia to stay with him. At first she had been vehemently against moving into a suite in a more reputable hotel. She'd argued for over an hour that she shouldn't 'mooch' and that staying with him was a 'bad idea.' She had also argued that she was 'perfectly fine in her tent in one of the local campgrounds.' It wasn't until Demetri let go of some of his own pride and confided that he wished to be _sure_ that she was safe, and the only way for him to be sure of that would be for her to be near him. He had stated that being out in a tent, not even a recreational vehicle, left her exposed to the wildlife that may wander into the campgrounds. That had ceased her arguing as she sat and pondered quietly for some time. After that it had only taken a few more statements and she agreed, on the sole condition that the suite had two rooms as promised.

It had not taken Demetri long to find them such a place and they settled in only a few hours after booking. There were still a few weeks left until Mardi Gras, the human celebration that evidently New Orleans seemed to personify according to the hotel attended he had spoken too, and therefore Demetri was forced to settle for a hotel that was a bit less extravagant than his first choice. It was unfortunate he could not find the persons who had rented the room Demetri had his eye on, as they were already booked ahead of time and had he paid for the room, Demetri would have liked to… persuade them from traveling this February.

Since Della agreed to his proposal Demetri had begun feeling the difference in himself, knowing that he would be more capable of protecting her since she was in such close proximity to him. With Delphia in the same room as he, Demetri had no worry that Marie and her coven could do harm to his mate, although he had established that they meant Delphia no harm, and had threatened the vampires himself. Furthermore, there was no risk of wild animals and repulsive humans breaking into this suite and harming her. It set his mind at ease.

"Demetri, look you can see the whole city from here!" Della exclaimed from the wall of the room that was made of thick glass.

Demetri could see just fine from where he was sitting every miniscule detail of the city below them, but he walked to where his mate stood regardless, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her close. She did not protest, though they hadn't spoken about their connection since that first night in New Orleans. Demetri wondered if he should bring it up, if only to gauge her emotions and feelings towards him now that he'd explained some of his secrets to her.

He also wondered if she had started putting the pieces together. He doubted that the word vampire would flash into her mind but almost hoped that she would simply figure it out herself with the clues he had given her. Unless of course she was a reader of vampire romance novels, in which case he was lucky she'd yet to make the comparison. Thankfully, thinking back to the possessions that he had found in Della's room in her grandfather's house, he had seen no evidence to her reading habits but historical accounts of several different world events.

No, Della more than likely would not draw the vampire parallel.

"Isn't it beautiful here?" she asked, her blue eyes looking up into his face as she smiled, as if all of the woes of that mornings' conversation had been forgotten.

Demetri had been lucky that the weather was overcast this morning, making it easy for him to acquire the room and move both he and Delphia into it. But now that he was looking out at the sky he could see the sun beginning to break through the clouds. The four-day streak was coming to an end that day, according to the weather channel. Demetri sighed, "You are more beautiful than all of the cities and country sides I have ever witnessed, _bella cara_ , come with me, I must explain only one more fact about me for the day, if you are willing to hear it."

Della looked away from the window, eye brows raised in curiosity as she walked towards the couch that Demetri had motioned to. He could not blame her for her facial expression. He had not freely offered information before. The only reason he was doing so now was to save himself further issue when she would, undoubtedly, wish to explore the city during the daylight and he would not be able to follow her. He needed her to understand his reasoning, and hopefully she would not wish to go outside of the hotel without him. Though he could not think of a justification for keeping her locked in the room, unless he were to pull forth every bit of his manipulative nature and convince her to stay inside with him using every trick he could to gain his own way. Surely she would rip his head off as a newborn if she discovered he had done this, however. Not to mention Marie's statement that Delphia would be gifted and therefore he should tread carefully and try not to earn her anger. Demetri glanced her over, she sat and curled her legs underneath her, her torso leaning against the arm of the furniture.

At the sight of her, Demetri paused. The way Della sat, she looked like a model of the early twentieth century, the only missing element was the clothing she wore that clearly dated the time. Not for the first time Demetri wished she were ready, wished he could explain everything to her so he could claim her. His instinct was growling at him to do it already, to claim his mate. In that moment he wanted to listen more than he had in the past fortnight. Her blue eyes looking upon him with curiosity. He finally was able to pull himself from his lustful ponderings and seated himself across from her in the arm chair, rather than next to her where he may be tempted.

"Okay so what's up?" Della questioned, raising her hips up marginally.

At the movement, Demetri stiffened. Though just as her hips raised her left arm snaked around and right hand disappeared beneath her and when it came back into his view her cell phone was in her hand. She placed it on the cushion beside her. Her eyes never leaving his, unaware of his body and mental state as he envisioned her hips raising for _him._

"Dem?" Della questioned.

That broke Demetri's lustful thoughts once again. Was it that she was in such close proximity or that his Della knew certain facts about him now and was still _there_ that caused his body to react more to her than it had in the previous several days? He felt like he knew her better now than he had previously. Before, the mating connection had drawn him to her. Now, it was Delphia herself with her compassion and reckless abandon, and everything that he had learnt from observing her that was the draw, along with the scent of her blood, and he was having a difficult time telling himself _not_ to act.

"My… flesh," he began, "is as strong as marble. Not too many years ago one of our kind conducted a study in attempts to understand the reasoning for this. I was not too interested at the time, so I do not have much information to share about his findings. However, what I was able to understand was that our cells are not like the cells of a human, they are more flexible, and therefore our… flesh becomes hard and reflective, like crystal or diamond, for instance." Demetri stopped to allow her time to process this.

Della sat with her lip caught between her teeth. She nodded, "Okay, that makes a little sense scientifically. Not that I know much about science. But you're basically telling me outright that you're not human. You hadn't told me that this morning, are you sure you want to share that with me right now? I'm not supposed to be 'ready' yet, remember?"

The sun broke through the clouds, finally, and Demetri stood. A few rays came through the open curtains and he walked over to them, holding his hand out to them. As his skin now glittered in the rays Della gasped. Demetri spoke before she could say anything, "I have been indescribably grateful to the gods that New Orleans has been uncharacteristically overcast these past several days. However, I was not meant to be so fortunate. You are correct, I do not think you are ready to know everything. But this was something that needed to be made known to you sooner rather than later. My kind, we glisten like light reflecting off a diamond when in the sunlight. Without proper cover, the sun holds a power over the movement of all of us. You can imagine what a… _mundane_ human would think seeing someone glittering in the sunlight, what they would say or do."

Della bobbed her head up and down a couple times, as if contemplating something, and unfolded her legs rising from the couch and walking over to him. She placed her right hand on his exposed forearm and glided her hand across it. "… they would hunt you down. Preform science experiments and try to control you, or kill you," she whispered.

Demetri chucked, catching her hand in his, "They could not catch any of my kind to do so, but the mere knowledge of our existence would have the humans treating us as a threat, and thus forcing my kind to be aware and fight against the threat to us. In the past, and even now, the Volturi protects my kind from exposure."

Della met his eyes, "The organization you work for? So you guys are like the protectors of your kind, then?"

Demetri nodded, attempting to focus on the conversation and not Delphia's hand on his exposed arm, the other clasped gently in his hand. "The Volturi has laws and members, our Guards, who enforce them, I am one of those Guards."

"Oh, so you're the Police!" Della laughed, smiling widely, and her hand fell from his arm. She seemed to be taking this information a lot better than she had taken the information he'd doled out earlier. "Wait, aren't you breaking your no exposure law by telling me about your kind?"

His expression turning absolutely serious, Demetri explained, "I am, though you have placed me in a peculiar position. I find that I have a particular need to make known the truth of my existence to you, and yet that I need time to help you understand before you learn the whole of it. Still, if you were to confess this to anyone I would be reprimanded in a particularly malevolent way."

"I understand," Della affirmed, flashing him a wide smile completely unbothered by his warning and she turned to walk towards the couch once again, "I wouldn't tell anyone. Firstly, I don't want to breech the trust you're putting in me and secondly, I don't have anyone to tell anyways."

Demetri stood just away from the opening in the curtains for a few moments longer, pondering Delphia as he so often found himself doing over the last few months since Aurora had sensed his mate. Della truly was everything he'd wished in a mate, even the parts that he had not even known he'd wanted. It was as if the gods had made her with him in mind. Surely, that was what mates were. Made for each other by the gods.

Was it truly possible for one small human to accept his kind that easily? Would she keep the same resolve once she discovered the whole truth?

After a few moments, Demetri registered that Della had turned on the television and was speaking to him, "- since that will be impossible. So I figure we could just do it tonight after the sun goes down. What do you think?"

Having not been paying attention to Delphia at all, Demetri had no idea what she was referring too and felt his body react to what she had said. He felt _human_ , as his body reacted in the way of an adolescent boy to the words that had slipped seductively off Delphia's tongue. _How utterly pathetic_ , Demetri thought to himself as he willed his body to be again under his control, instead of a single part of his anatomy. Walking at a human's pace, but silently, to stand in front of Della, he spoke as she jumped and her hand flew to her chest, "My apologies, Delphia, I was in my own head."

Instead of commenting on his silent appearance, Della recovered quickly and with her hand still placed on her chest Della grinned and winked before complaining in a voice that seemed to be thick with emotion, "You mean to say you were not listening to me, Mr. Volturi?"

Gathering her tone to be teasing, Demetri decided he would do best to play along for a moment. "My _darling_ Delphia I am distraught with self-loathing; how could I not hear the words you speak? No greater crime have I committed, from this day forward I vow to listen when you speak for your eloquence and radiance far outshine any meager thoughts that would invade my consciousness when you are near!"

Not missing a beat, Della responded with equal fervor, "Oh, charming Demetri, do not fret I would not deprave you of your interior solitude! I wished only to convey my gratitude for your generosity in finding a suite where the both of us could maintain equal space and privacy, and to suggest that I remain with you during the day, since clearly we could not venture the outside in that time together. New Orleans is a city of nightlife; I wish only to ask that we spend the available time of darkness in wanderlust!"

At the end of Della's monologue, the both of them cracked grins and laughed, Demetri having a seat next to her. Demetri could not help but be proud of her articulate speech, as it conveyed that she would have no issue speaking amongst the guard or the Kings in the inevitable event that she was to speak with them. As most of the Volturi still spoke in this way, instead of the lazy speech that humans were accustomed to in the last several decades.

Demetri, though less so when Delphia spoke, hated the way humans articulated in these last few generations. They almost refused to annunciate all of their words properly, or finish them for that matter. The 'slang' was absolutely ridiculous and ever changing, making it difficult to keep up with and understand. He honestly still could not understand what being 'salty' meant and why humans would describe someone in such a way. Nor did he understand the meaning of a "fuck boy," though he gathered it had something to do with casual nighttime relations. It baffled him that in a hundred years the human race could so easily go from praising people like the practical genius Albert Einstein to some miscreant child singer named Justin Bieber.

Dispelling his thoughts, so as not to fall off task, Demetri turned so that his back was against the arm of the couch and his body faced Delphia. She was in the same position she had been minutes ago before he'd decided to show her what his body looked like in the sun. Pushing impure thoughts from his head once again, Demetri spoke in a low voice as he attempted to convey his feelings in the best way he knew how, "I appreciate your suggestion, and your uncanny ability to see past my flaws and still remain here, with me. I harbor no doubt that you might have wished to flee from me when I explained certain aspects of my existence. Your action, or rather your lack thereof, means more to me than you could know, that you have decided to endure warms my frosted heart. I do not intend to break the trust that I have thus far built with you, _bella cara_."

Della had turned her head from the television to look at him when he'd begun his spiel. She hadn't said anything or interrupted, but he could practically see the thoughts whirling around in her head. He waited for a few moments after he'd finished speaking, not knowing when she would choose to reply. As he had begun to understand his mate more, he had realized that she takes her time when she is thinking about asking something he may not answer, she seems to contemplate the risk reward ratio before doing so, where as other times when she responds it is quick and precise.

He waited, wondering what she could have to say to him.

"You're right, I want to run. In fact, I've been fighting my instinct to run all day and I don't know why. The only reason I can come up with is that I want to know more." Demetri felt as though his unbeating heart may fall to pieces, realizing that she may only wish to stay until she found the whole truth, and then she would be gone. What she did not understand was that if she were to learn the whole truth and decide to leave, he would be forced the change her for her knowledge alone, being a vampire of the highest order he could no longer let her remain human, not that he wanted that. It was, in part, some of the reason he shared what he did, to ensure that Della would be turned, he had stolen her choice. "I want to know everything about you, your back story. How old you are, where you came from and not just vague answers, I want the details. I want to know if you and your people were born with glittery skin or if it was somehow given to you. Most of all, I want to know _why_ I want to know."

Della paused, but looked like she wanted to say more. Before Demetri could ask what else she wanted to say, as his spirits lifted at her confession, she continued, "Understand, Dem, that I've never been one to pry. Honestly, I've never known anyone long enough to pry into their lives if they didn't invite my curiosity in the first place, and I've never wanted to stick around one particular person for more than a couple days before. I explained when I met you here in NO, my mom and I traveled a lot. I never had friends growing up, it's hard to make friends when you're always leaving. At the time, social media and cell phones either didn't exist or, when they did, weren't easy for me to maintain. When Myspace and Facebook came out I just didn't care enough to try to track down all the people I had met over the years so I never made either of those things. No one calls my phone because I don't give out my number. So you see, it's really weird for me to be this interested in you, but for some reason I _want_ to know, I _want_ to stay. I want to stay so badly that I am fighting my instinct to run, something that I have _never_ done before."

Demetri almost could not comprehend what he was hearing. Delphia, his Delphia, was fighting her instinct to flee so that she could stay with him. She had never wanted to stay or maintain relationships with others before but he was _different._ The mating bond was working strongly over Delphia, but part of him wondered if it was the mating bond at all. He pondered if Delphia stayed for the simple reason that she wanted to know. Surely she would not feel the bond as strongly as he did, she was a human after all. Perhaps she _felt_ that she should not run. Or maybe… maybe Delphia was growing to care for him without the mating bond meddling with her feelings. Regardless of the cause, Demetri was elated. Della was biting her bottom lip again and it was taking every ounce of disciplined control he'd every hounded into himself over the years not to steal a taste for himself. In seconds, he had talked himself out of his own control.

 _Damn the consequences_ , Demetri thought as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers with every bit of delicacy he could manage.

And then there was fire.

It was as if every cell in his body were under siege but... _somehow_ … the fire was welcome. It felt as though his venom was igniting though he was not _burning._ His body was warming internally and it had spread quickly, from his mouth and through his throat, down into his very core. It eased the burning hunger that had erupted in his throat at his proximity to his mate's blood melody. In the back of his mind, as he tasted her sweet and yet still quite spicy intoxicating scent on his lips, Demetri knew that this internal inferno, closely akin to the feeling a vampire attained through the consumption of their natural food source, had come from her mouth alone, and not from his source of sustenance.

Enveloped in a cavernous feeling of euphoria, Demetri growled and wrapped his arms around his mate, dragging her closer to him so that she was sitting on his lap while he kissed her with a renewed vigor at his discovery. He was content to drink in the flavor of her lips for the next century, if his obligations were to fall away and allow for it.

All too soon, Delphia pulled away gasping for air as her right hand flew to her mouth and her eyes were wide with shock. He began to ask what was wrong, if he had done something she was upset over. Had his timing been too soon? As his anxiety began to climb, Demetri opened his mouth to question Della and apologize. Before these questions passed his lips, Della placed her hands on either side of his face and gently slid her lips against his once again. The movement lasted only a few seconds, and Della was pulling away again, sliding off his lap.

He growled softly at the feel of her body sliding away from his, fighting the urge to grab her around the waist and pull her back to him. No doubt she had felt his arousal, but the action of kissing him once again of her own accord told Demetri all he needed to know. It was not too early, and she was not upset about it. If she had been, he would surely hear about it.

"Okay, I think I need lunch and since the sun doesn't go down for another five hours or so, I think we should binge watch comedy central." She winked at him and swayed over to the room service menu, holding it up pointedly, "I'll pay you back, if you don't mind?"

Chuckling and willing the tightness in his pants away, Demetri responded with an eye roll, "You will not repay me for any sustenance you require, _diletto_ , put whatever nutrition you require on the room tab and it will be taken care of."

Della scoffed, "Dem, these places are expensive enough already!"

Demetri flitted over to Della after she turned her back to him, maintaining that there were certain aspects of him that she was not quite ready for, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She did not jump, much to his own surprise. He pushed her red mane away from one side of her neck and lent down to run his lips across her pulse, his senses going wild as he picked up her arousal and increasing heartbeat. "Trust me, _bella cara_ , I have more than enough money to sustain residence in this hotel for over a hundred years without putting too much of a dent into my pocket book."

"U-uh," Della spoke and released a shaky breath, presumably at his actions and not his proclamation of wealth, "well… still. I can't take advantage of you like that."

Demetri placed a kiss to her pulse point and darted his tongue out to feel the pulse and capture her flavor. He had the ability to bite her in that moment, but he found that his self-control was rather well pronounced, and he wasn't as thirsty as he would have been not two days prior. It was as if he had fed not moments ago, when his lips finally met Delphia's.

He wondered if this was common with mates, or if this was just _his_ mate.

"Oh, Delphia, I beg you, take advantage of me anyway you deem necessary." He whispered seductively, and then held her close and upright as her knees gave way.

Della recovered, and stood on her own once again, whirling around and wielding the phone like a one handed sword, "Damn perv!" she exclaimed, eyes glinting in humor, "I doubt this will do much damage but I promise I'll use it for more than ordering my lunch if you keep it up." She was laughing by the end of her treat, as Demetri's fingers tickled at her side. "DEM," she yelled playfully, "I really am hungry!"

Demetri ceased his teasing and huffed exasperatedly, smiling and kissing her forehead. As he ventured into his room, listening to Delphia order herself lunch, Demetri mused that this day had taken a far more positive turn than he had originally guessed it would.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Thirteen**

_The proof of these_ good _humans could be seen in the way that a child looks up to a parent, despite the parents' flaws. It was obvious in the way that a human could hold a capacity to morn for the loss of other humans that they had never met._

Della was absolutely and unequivocally stunned for a number of reasons, and every single reason had something to do with the sexy, tight assed (in more ways than one), stalker-ish, and inhuman Italian man that she now _shared a suite with_. There were many things wrong with what had happened since she had been woken up that morning, the top of the list, though, was the simple fact that she was sharing a living space with a guy she'd known for less than a week.

What. Was. She. Thinking?

She didn't know. Her gut said she needed to argue so she had. Oh, had she _argued_ her point. She was entirely prepared to stay in the campground for the foreseeable future. Della would be content with that decision. But _no_ Mr. sexy hair _had_ to make several fantastic points and within an hour he'd convinced her that staying with him in a hotel was the best idea. Della had figured that he meant that he would pay for two rooms in a skanky motel with a conjoining door, since he just walked into her room anyways. She had no idea what he _really_ had in mind.

When her eyes set upon the place that he'd chosen she couldn't help but chortle hysterically at his joke, asking where they were really staying. It had been even worse when she realized he wasn't joking, and had bought out one of the penthouse suites for a month. That alone must have costed a fortune, she guaranteed just a bag of Dorito's in the snack machine at this place was probably borderline six dollars, let alone how much a penthouse suite would cost for even a day. Della knew that she would have never afforded something as extravagant as this in her entire life.

She guessed that working for the Volturi, his kinds' law enforcement as she'd recently found out, must have excellent pay.

Secondly, Demetri had all of the sudden gotten affectionate. While she both welcomed and relished in the feeling of his lips on hers, she wondered where the sudden displays had come from. They hardly actually knew each other. Sure, Della figured she knew him very well for only having met him hardly over a week ago, but still. Though, she realized that she wasn't _against_ this development, far from it. Della had allowed it, and relished in it.

But they weren't together. No no, they weren't and they wouldn't be. Della didn't want to put a label on whatever _thing_ they were. They just… _were_.

She couldn't let go of how his kiss had made her feel. It was as if just as his lips touched hers his freezing body temperature had washed over and through her body, chilling her to the bone. But instead of flipping a shit at the new sensation she welcomed and even savored the feeling. She had never been so cold before in her _life_. But his kiss, instead of bringing a pain with the temperature, brought a sort of calm serenity to her entire body that she had never experienced before.

And they hadn't even made out, that was just lip on lip action there.

She'd almost let herself drown in the feeling before she'd realized that she needed to breathe. She'd pulled away and had immediately noted the question and worry in his eyes. She wanted desperately to change the subject. She wasn't ready to discuss the implications of this new behavior and so she'd leant down to kiss him quickly, letting the feeling of ice wash her body for only a moment before heading towards the phone to order room service.

And the things he'd made her feel before she called room service, well, she now realized just how dangerous it was that they were going to be sleeping with only a wall and a couple of flimsy doors dividing them.

The third issue on the list was that Demetri was clearly not human. No matter how well she was currently taking this, she had tried to compartmentalize everything she knew into an orderly mental list so that she could review and try to figure out what he _wasn't_ telling her. Della was certain that whatever clues he _was_ giving were just that, clues. She felt like he meant for her to put them together and figure it out before he told her. Which, if he was, she didn't quite understand why, unless he was trying to avoid breaking the exposure law of his people completely.

Della was no longer leaning towards anything of a diviner, more Christian, religious spectrum. Instead, she was thinking about mythology. She'd caught on that Demetri had said the word 'gods' instead of a singular 'God.' She did an internal and joking gasp at the thought that he might be a _pagan!_ Gramps would surely strangle her from beyond the grave! She didn't really see Demetri as religious, so she wasn't completely sure of what to make of this. He'd stated he was born Greek, so maybe he believed in the mythological Greek gods? This lead her down the path of thinking he may be a demigod or something, if those actually existed and the mythological gods were real, which didn't really make much sense but at this point nothing was making sense.

Like the fact that she'd seen his skin glitter in the sunlight as the clouds broke outside. His eyes were red, his skin was almost white and cold to the touch. He wasn't lying, she did not doubt it and had come to terms with it since her breakdown that morning. The defining moment was when he had proven that his skin indeed glittered in the sun. But as close as she felt like she might be to the truth, she still felt like she was _so_ far away from the entirety of it.

He'd said that she wouldn't guess it. A demigod would be something no one else would guess, if given the opportunity. But still, she felt like she wasn't correct in that assumption. It was just an inkling, but she just couldn't settle on Demetri being like Hercules or Achilles, because never once had any book mentioned sparkling skin or crimson eyes. She would know, she took several classes on Greek mythology. Then again, that kind of thing might have been taken out of the books. Who knew, sometimes books were wrong.

With that, her mind started working on other mythological beings while she sat beside Demetri watching reruns of South Park, waiting on the sun to finally descend below the horizon so they could go out and do something fun. She needed to get her mind off of all this, for a least a few hours so that she could have some time to regroup her feelings and her thoughts. He hadn't left her all day for more than a few minutes at a time and she felt like that alone wasn't helping her to process the situation properly.

"This television show is foul." Demetri complained for the fourth time since they'd been watching the animated elementary school kids. That made it twice in each of the past two episodes.

Della rolled her eyes, "Trust me when I say that this is not as bad as television gets, be glad I'm not subjecting you to something like teen mom." She paused, "Actually, teen mom might be more preferable to you than South Park." Della laughed, thinking about it further, "I can't believe you've never seen this before."

"To be frank, we do not waste our time on such things."

Della picked up the remote and started surfing through the channels, since Demetri had been vocal about his opinion more than once she figured it would be best to just change it, she wasn't particularly involved in show as it was, anyways. Her mind was still reeling from the revelations of that day, and then Demetri's more affectionate behavior combined with her new accommodations. She wondered if she would snap again anytime soon.

Probably.

As she surfed through the channels, a question popped into her mind and she couldn't stop herself from asking, "Hey how do you feel about wolves?"

She was careful to notice any facial expression that filtered through his features as she observed him. His dark eyebrows raised and he chuckled, "I am no werewolf, _bella cara_."

"That's what a werewolf would say." She grumbled, getting a little frustrated. Well, he wouldn't be a werewolf because he would more than likely still eat regular people food. The image of Demetri eating dog food came to mind and Della had to stifle it quickly before she laughed outright. _Apply the process of elimination, Della_. She told herself sternly. "I considered Demigod for a few minutes but that didn't make much sense."

"I am not that either."

"How about a witch… er, warlock?"

He shook his head, a small smile gracing his chisled features.

Okay, there weren't many humanoid mythological creatures that weren't weirdly misshapen or short. Glancing at Demetri's probably six-foot frame, he couldn't be a faerie or a leprechaun so… that really left like… one thing.

The _thing_ was ludicrous, but what else did she have left?

No no, she needed to think about that for a couple more days before she asked him _that_. The sunlight to skin effect was enough to deter _that_ speculation for now. But the red eyes?

Instead of thinking about it further, Della settled into the couch as she settled the television on the History Channel. Something she hoped they could both agree on. It was a documentary on the Medieval Greeks. Demetri sat completely still, eyes focused on the screen while the baritone voice spoke over the history of Greece while under warfare for hundreds of years during the Crusades, battle between the Roman Empire and the Ottoman's had waged on. Demetri didn't say a thing during show, though Della figured he was either in his own mind or paying rapt attention.

At least he wasn't complaining about it, she figured that she had found a happy medium as well as a shared interest that extended past that first night in Detroit.

It was about halfway through the show that Della's eyes started to droop around four in the afternoon and she ended up falling asleep on the couch. Demetri had, instead of waking her to take off for a night on the town, lifted her carefully and placed her in her bed, gently taking her shoes from her feet and left her to sleep.

~.~.~.~

Marie Laveau sat cross legged on the floor of the cellar underneath her plantation home. There were many reasons she had chosen this property compared to the others that had been brought to her attention when she was searching for a historical building to move into and remodel. This one in particular had stood out. Its history was particularly involved in her decision, as the property had once belonged to mortal who had enslaved two of Marie's coven mates, the twins Jack and Beau. She supposed it was a form of poetic justice that lead her to buy this monstrosity, but it hadn't been her only reasoning.

For starters, it was secluded.

With the home came property that stretched for a mile in each direction. Half of the land was swamp, the other half treacherous woodland. It was impossible for any human to simply stumble upon them without having the intent to locate the property in the first place. They had moved the coven here after it had been purchased in the early 1920s, which coincidentally was after the last of the slaver's descendants had passed away... from an 'animal' attack that had left them drained of blood, and had begun construction immediately.

After the last few decades the house had been updated and remodeled several times. The only part of the home that had never been touched by a single tool or modernity was the dank cellar, because any unsolicited movement in the room would be cause for the spirits to grow agitated. In fact, the spirits that remained in the cellar were of the particularly vengeful sort and it had taken Marie several years to gain their trust before even she could enter the room. Now, Marie used this chamber as her casting location away from the shop. While the shop worked for most things, the cellar of the plantation was used for the most challenging of rituals, as it had an easier access to the spirits, and that went into her second reason for purchasing this particular property.

It was consecrated and antiquated grounds.

During the plantations prime, hundreds of slaves had worked, lived, and been mercilessly slaughtered on and around this ancient land. Their deaths were not peaceful, but instead violent and malicious. Humans, at times in history, tend to prove that they are hateful, indignant, and often nefarious beings, especially to whom they perceive as their _lesser_. When their lives grow difficult, or they obtain too much power, they can become worse than any vampire, and those that had owned this plantation were among the worst sort of humans. The kind of human who enjoys the torture and brutal savagery that was killing their slaves slowly, but allowing them to live and heal only to kill them at a later time.

These kinds of humans made even her cringe in disgust, and the unfortunate truth was that many vampires looked at this kind of human and decided that this was what they all were like, thus igniting a one sided burning hatred between vampire and man. One that would be returned with vigor if man learnt about the existence of vampire kind.

But, these vampires paid mind to only one half of humanity. There were beautiful humans as well, quite possibly there were far more of these decent humans to smother the horrid ones, which was something that could not be said about the vampire race. The proof of these _good_ humans could be seen in the way that a child looks up to a parent, despite the parents' flaws. It was obvious in the way that a human could hold a capacity to morn for the loss of other humans that they had never met. The beauty of humanity, that had been lost on Marie herself for many decades, had shown itself when the world and this nation had come together after for New York after the terrorist attacks, and then again when Katrina hit her very home land, and in many other instances since. Marie had been shocked in all of these occurrences where man displayed remorse for things that had happened to those whom they did not know, for horrible events both nature and man had created.

It showed a human's capacity to love.

No, humans were not monsters. Fundamentally corrupt, yes, but they _chose_ how to live their lives and that was the crux of the issue. Marie had decided this after hurricane Katrina. The blackness of humanity could be cast away by its light in their darkest of times.

Unfortunately, the grounds of her home were consecrated with the anger of those who had been killed by the worst of humanity. And the spirits that remained on these grounds, they were powerful with otherworldly hatred. Powerful spirits that were happy to oblige Marie with whatever ritual she attempted over the last several decades since she'd purchased the property and gained their trust.

For these reasons, Marie was gathered in her cellar tonight, waiting on the midnight witching hour as the full moon was raised almost exactly above the house. Marie sat in her cellar, that had been furnished almost identically to the secret back room of her shop. The markings on the floor where different this time, drawn circular around a lit candle, with salt instead of clay, that sat on top of a single strand of red hair. It had been for the purpose of gathering this particular trinket that Marie had approached Delphia Payne in the bakery downtown two mornings prior. The poor girls heart had been pounding relentlessly in her chest as Marie had vaguely welcomed her to her second life, before she even knew what was truly going to happen to her.

She'd gathered the hair and left just before the ancient Volturi had appeared, knowing he would not leave his mate before she could properly hide the strand of hair from him.

After Marie had been shown the young woman's future, she knew that she had a part to play that the ancestor's had demanded she see to its fruition. Delphia's future would be years in the making, taking a leap into power and immortality was only the beginning. Though with Marie's acceptance of her own fate came the almost unbearable responsibility to stay away from the mind reading vampires.

Aro, mostly.

For if the king were to discover the path that the ancestors had shown her the consequences would be dire and the paradigm of the fated future would shift, causing an unbalance in nature and an unknown outcome.

"Marie," she heard her mate, Amos, call from above the cellar, interrupting her thoughts.

"It is open."

Marie looked upon her husband fondly as he descended the staircase into the cellar with an unconscious human lain casually across his arms. Marie had contemplated turning Amos for five years before she'd actually done so. She'd smelt his unique scent when he was a slave in the 1800s, and had watched over him from afar for years, knowing what he was to her and what he could be if his potential had been realized. After two years of watching over him like a guardian, Marie had conducted a ritual that would unlock his inner gifts, helping them to manifest so that he could protect himself when she was not around to do so herself.

It hadn't taken long after the manifestation of Amos' gifts for Marie to no longer restrain herself, the call of her mate became too great paired with his slaver's increasing violence and she'd had to reveal herself to him. It had been a trying two years, Amos had insisted that he be changed, but Marie was hesitant while his gift was still so new to him. She hoped gaining better control over it as a human would help him when he became immortal and the gift manifested in its entirety. Eventually, Marie came to terms with the fact that while she experimented with her human mates' power, she had allowed her mate to age an extra five years and if she continued to do so the time would pass them both by, so Marie finally turned her mate.

Amos' power manifested in its entirety, and with the control he'd exhibited as a human he was easily able to manage himself as a gifted newborn.

"Do you need me for anything else?" The concern on Amos' face was palpable. Marie stood and lifted her hand to his face, kissing him gently.

"I will be fine; this isn't my first time."

In truth, this would be only the second time Marie preformed this particular ritual.

Amos nodded and pulled his mate to him, "The spirits are restless, will you not share with me what they intend for this girl?"

Marie had never withheld truth from her mate before, even in the early stages of their bond when she had first approached him she hadn't done so. She'd told him what she was, and that he was of witch blood in their very first conversation. The fact that she wasn't uttering a single word about what the sprints had shown her just a few nights ago was concerning, and how he could feel the ancient spirits move and call out to him through his gift with a persistent and impatient furor told Amos that the ritual Marie intended to perform was sanctioned by them. That could only mean that the spirits had asked his mate not to share the information that they had granted her.

"I must keep this to myself for now," Marie confirmed his suspicion, "but be assured that all will be revealed in time."

There was a sudden shift in the air around them, the ancient grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the room chimed, with each sound up to the twelfth and final chime the sense of foreboding grew thicker as the witching hour was upon them. Marie kissed her mate and shooed him out the door.

It was time.

As Amos shut the great metal cellar door, Marie planted herself back on the floor and dragged the unconscious human into the circle of salt. Despite the idea that there was a large majority of humans that weren't so bad, as far as inner demonism went, it did not change the fact that Marie was a vampire, and certain dark rituals required certain sacrifices. This ritual in particular required a human one.

So, unfortunately for this cretin of a human who'd been caught selling illegal narcotics to children in the lower end of Marie's beloved city, Marie slid her ritual knife across his throat with practiced ease. The man should be lucky that they were gracious enough to drug him before killing him, for he would feel no pain. With the blood spilling onto the ritual markings on the floor came Marie's burning instinct to devour it, but her disciplined nature reminded her that this was not for her, but payment for her passage into the spiritual realm. Quickly, Marie chanted, pleading in her native tongue to the ancestral spirits for safe passage into the void. Her head fell back as her neck gave way, though her body remained upright.

She felt it the moment her soul left her body and entered the clouded domain. It was as if she had been hoisted up rapidly from the physical world and onto an astral plane where gravity did not exist and there was nothing tying her soul to her body. This was not the first time she'd ventured into the beyond, and it wouldn't be the last in her immortal lifetime. Still, the feeling was as foreign now as it had been the first time. Marie did not open her eyes at first, she knew what was waiting when she did.

Instead, she heard them before seeing them. The spirits that surrounded her dripped a sinister presence. They had never fully welcomed her back to their fold after she had been turned into something that wasn't human, as they had never dealt with a vampire who could access their world before, but they tolerated her for her persistence and determination to maintain the ancient practice. The ancient voices came out in broken whispers, causing a shiver of fear to creep up her now ethereal spine.

Her senses, speed, and strength were all dulled to that of a human on this plane. She was just as liable to get killed here as any other witch would be. Even a vampire was vulnerable here, it was one of the reasons she hated ascending to the astral world, especially now that she was so used to being immortal.

"… _the girl_ …" a whispered, far away voice called out, causing Marie to finally open her eyes.

Standing in front of her were hundreds of wraithlike human forms. These were no ordinary ghosts, these were the very ancients that she answered to for every crime, called to for every ounce of power that ran through her undead body, and sought permission from for what she sought to do now.

"Yes, the girl, I seek to free the power within." Marie answered, moving to a standing position though her head bowed in respect to the ancient spirits.

The wraiths parted, giving way to one dark path. "… _go_ …" they all seemed to whisper at different times, giving off a sort of ambient order. Marie wouldn't be told twice. They had given her the order, and now she must see it through whether they would direct her back to her body or not. Her mission was as clear to her as it was dangerous. If she couldn't find her way back to her body, her sprit would be stuck here until she could. The only good part of being a vampire in the spiritual realm was that her body would remain until she did find her way back, where as a human's body would die within three days of missing their soul when dehydration killed them.

Marie began to step forward, passing the wraith ancients that had surrounded her and walking down their clearly marked path. The swirling mist had almost instantly shrouded her, and darkness was all that could be seen as she walked straight forward. If she deviated from the path, she would surely be lost and unable to return to her corporeal body. But how was she to know that she was truly moving straight forward?

Marie had no choice but to keep moving. The ancients had called to her during her vision of the girl's future, they had asked her to unlock the girl's potential. Surely this had granted her favor with the spirits. Marie was reminded of the last time she had done this and shuddered. It had taken her soul month to find her body again.

"… _light_ …" a wraith called from her right.

Marie looked to her right and saw only darkness, pausing and contemplating if she was meant to change paths. She considered moving towards the noise but thought better of it, and instead turned her head back again. Marie stifled a gasp as she saw a light in the distance, small but there nonetheless. Marie picked up her pace, frustrated at the idea of moving so slowly. If she'd been able to maintain her vampiric abilities on this plane, then she would already be in the room.

The light seemed to become further away the faster she moved towards it. Marie picked up her pace from a fast walk to a run, but the light seemed to shrink. She kept trying, pushing herself until the light could hardly be seen in the darkness of the room. Out of breath and cursing herself, having not felt this fatigue in centuries, Marie halted in her tracks and sank to her knees in an attempt to catch her breath.

It had been long since she'd last felt mortal.

This had not happened when she'd unlocked Amos' potential.

When she raised her head and opened her eyes in determination, Marie nearly jumped out of her skin as light nearly blinded her with its proximity. She closed her eyes and re-opened them, seeing the painted grey door beyond the blinding light. She stood and her hand darted out to twist the handle, but something dark and freezing wrapped around her arm tightly. Gasping and jumping back, Marie was able to make out a sentry shrouded in mist, glaring down at her through a dark hood.

Just as soon as the sentry had claimed her arm, he'd released it, falling back into the darkness with one word, "… _passage_ …".

Without Marie having to touch the door it opened slowly and silently which was almost more terrifying than if the door had creaked. She wondered briefly if she had opened the door in the physical realm or if it had only happened on this plane? Banishing the thought, Marie stepped into the darkened room.

The door remained open behind her, casting just a sliver of light into the room, illuminating a sleeping Delphia Payne.

Even in the darkness her hair stood out like a flickering flame.

"I'm sorry, Miss Della, but you do not have time to waste." She whispered as she glided her hand across the red heads sleeping face, "You will understand in time."

Marie leaned her entire body until she was hovering just and inch above Della and thrust her ghostly body inside of the girls sleeping one. Marie quickly searched for the part of Delphia that had been hidden and suppressed deep within, before the girl sensed the foreign entity within her and woke to expel it. When she found exactly what she was looking for, in the spot it was meant to be, Marie grasped it in her hand and squeezed with every bit of power she had in her soul.

A blinding light pushed Marie from the girls' body as Della's own spirit surged under the destruction of the locked core.

 _This is it, I'll never make it back to my body._ Marie thought as her presence was sent flying into the darkness of the other world. _I love you, Amos, I am so sorry_. She resigned herself to her fate of an eternity searching for a way back to her body as her back connected with something hard only moments later.

Marie's eyes opened tentatively, from the over sharpness of her sight to the smell of fresh blood that spilled into her senses and the burning in her throat that told Marie that she had reawakened in her own body.

On the other side of New Orleans, in an extravagant motel, Delphia Payne woke screaming as she felt the rising sensation of liquid fire coursing through her veins.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Fourteen**

_“These are Armani; I’m not plunging them into ice water. I would have to get them cleaned and it would be a hassle.”_

Demetri found himself planted on the couch in the living room of his rented suite while Delphia slept, dealing with an overwhelming sense of boredom. He supposed he should have woken her; Della had fallen asleep rather early despite her determination to peruse the town in the night time hours. However, Demetri had made a quick decision based on his observation that Della had been through quite a lot of stress that day and perhaps she needed her rest for her human body to rejuvenate properly, at least he had that basic knowledge of human needs. There would be plenty of time to bring her special sort of mayhem upon New Orleans the following night, he mused.

It was as though a weight had been lifted from Demetri’s chest, though the constricting remnants of it still endured, the more he admitted to Della about what he truly was. It felt as though there were something heavy resting upon his chest and with every fact he felt Delphia was ready to hear the pressure eased. The past day had given Demetri more leeway in his movements and mannerisms, like he was no longer attempting to walk on egg shells without crushing them, and yet he still could not out himself entirely.

Delphia was close to understanding the truth. What concerned Demetri was what her reaction would be once she learned that he was, indeed, a vampire. By any mythical definition despite the inconsistencies, the only characteristic of his kind that remained true in every culture and story; he was a creature who fed on the blood of her species. How would she react to the idea that his eyes were red with the blood of another human, let alone the reality? Since he had known his mate Demetri had been surprised many times by her reactions and lack thereof in many instances, those related and not related to him specifically. She was quite different from other humans, and he suspected that it was in her genetic makeup, she was meant to be a part of the supernatural world. Still, His own fate rested on Delphia’s delicate shoulders, and as that first day he had learned about her existence and every day since he hoped that she would accept him.

As a human Delphia seemed to have a knack for morality, and he wondered how that might transition into her immortal life. He shuddered to think she might feed from animals, and even worse if she were to ask him to feed from animals as well. No, he would not tell her they could sustain life from any other food source than humans, if he could get away with it. Perhaps she would feel better if he were to offer to drink bagged blood, since that had been available over the past few decades? He would possibly be willing to endure bagged blood for Delphia, if she asked him too, he was sure of it.

But animal blood he would have to vehemently refuse.

Demetri made a mental note to make sure Delphia never ran across a Cullen once turned, if she didn't she would not know.  

Perhaps all his worries were unfounded and Della would enjoy immortality regardless of how it was obtained. Demetri berated himself over the fact that by disclosing certain aspects of his existence with Della he had expunged any change at a choice that Delphia had originally had. Now, it was absolute that she would become a vampire, even against her will. By that fact alone he knew Della would be angry once she learnt the laws. Demetri had known the risks when he’d decided to answer her questions. He had made a quick decision that he could handle Delphia’s anger with him for a few years, even decades, surely she would not remain angry with him for the whole of her immortal life.

He could be patient, as long as she lived.

Still, he wondered what kind of newborn his mate would make, for there were different types. Most of all, though, there were the newborns blind with bloodlust. This type was typical of the vampire race. They were instinctual when they woke, brain unclouded by their basic human morality. Their instincts would call for one thing alone: blood. Delphia would feel two calls, two instinctual needs, when she woke as a newborn. With him in the room, her bloodlust would be fractionally smaller than that of a typical newborn, because the blood craving would be slightly overpowered by the call of the mating bond, the express _need_ to claim. Demetri had seen this happen before, when he stood guard over the room where Aro had turned Sulpicia.

It had been a most fascinating display of a newborn recognizing the mating bond over the carnal need for blood. Aro had practically shoved the human he had asked for at his mate, slicing into the human’s flesh so that Sulpicia hadn’t much of a choice in acknowledging her need for blood, and convinced her to partake in draining the human before they finally consummated their mating bond.

As easy as it was for Aro and Sulpicia, it had been much different for Chelsea and Afton, the second pair of mates that Demetri had witnessed after the one whom was a human was woken in their second life. Afton had been a merchant in Madagascar, Chelsea under Aro’s order had been running trade routes with them for the Volturi for years in the 1400s. Demetri did not know the situation in which Chelsea had found Afton, all he knew was that she had rescued him from becoming a slave when she witnessed him being pulled onto a boat from mainland Africa. Afterwards she brought him back to Volterra and turned him right away, claiming that he was her mate. When Afton woke, he shied away from everyone, including Chelsea for over a year until his newborn strength had worn off. By that time, Afton had discovered his power of invisibility. Though his power was regarded as far less than most and soon he practically faded into the background for the following centuries. He was a quiet vampire, like his ability he tended to fade into the background until it had come to computers in the late twentieth century.

Still, he shied away from his mate often in public. The behavior was quite different from any other mates Demetri had ever seen and he worried that Delphia might do such with him. It was another underlying reason for Demetri’s decision not to sweep Della up and cart her off to Italy.

Demetri was rattled from his musings as he heard Delphia begin to fuss in her sleep. _Dreaming?_ He wondered. He mused whether or not her dreams would revolve around him, would her subconscious be also attempting to learn the truth of him? Was it vain and arrogant of him to hope she dreamed of him? He supposed so, and banished the idea from his mind. Demetri stood, intending on flitting into her room but before he could Delphia gasped and he could hear her sit upwards in bed. Concerned, and aware that Della could quite possibly be awake and he should take care not to flit into her room, Demetri began walking towards the door.

He was rushed by the shrill cry that poured into his senses as Delphia began to scream as if someone were murdering her in a brutal, violent way. He flitted to her door and threw it open, taking in the sight before him. He paused for only a moment. Every bit of Della’s exposed body was covered in a sheen of sweat. After having seen her every morning for the past few days Demetri was highly aware that this was not typical of her. He observed her face while rushing towards her. She wasn’t screaming anymore, rather she was whimpering and he smelt the distinct scent of salty tears, as if she was either in pain or absolutely terrified. He suspected the former, as she had nothing to fear in this room or from him. He placed his cool hands on her face and felt as though his palm had encountered fire. It felt as though the droplets of sweat that dripped from her brow were lava.

“Tell me what is wrong.” He demanded, voice a bit harder than he had intended but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted… no he _needed_ to fix the issue.

“Hot. I'm…burning.” She gasped, throwing the covers off of herself and swinging her legs over the side of the double mattress, body shaking violently. She seemed to be struggling for air but forcing herself to speak, “I can’t breathe.”

Demetri’s mind fired through scenarios and possible ways to alleviate Delphia’s burning pain. He was unaware of what could cause such a sensation in a human, especially when the sun was descended from the sky and there was no fire in sight. More rough than he intended, Demetri scooped Delphia’s petite body into his arms, to which Della let out a bit of a startled gasp but quickly recovered, and moved her into the living room of the suite.

“Turn on the air.” She ordered. Demetri had no idea what that meant so he stood there, a questioning look on his face. Just when he was going to ask, Delphia elaborated, taking a deep breath every few words, “That thing… on the wall over there, flip the switch on it to cool…. turn it way down.”

Demetri moved just a bit above a human pace to the wall contraption that Delphia pointed too and found the button she had mentioned was already switched to the cool side, but the number was set to 72. He was not sure how much was too much for a human. He couldn’t guess that the seventies were too warm for Delphia, as he had no temperature gauge built in to tell him what was blistering and what was frigid anymore, he was comfortable in all climates. “What number should I-” He began to ask.

Della interrupted him, “As low as it will go.”

He quickly pressed the down arrow as gently as he could until the screen stopped and read 60 degrees. He moved back to the couch and kneeled in front of Delphia as he heard the vents kick on all around him, the gentle him a roar in his ears. It was then that he understood that he’d turned the modern air conditioning on. It was a unique and seemingly useful invention, he hadn’t much experience with it, the Volturi did not commission anyone for air conditioning to be installed in Volterra as they did not feel the changes of temperature as a human would. Delphia was still covered in sweat and it looked to be becoming worse. He placed his cool hands on her knees, surprised by how warm even this part of her body felt.

He could hear her ragged breathing, and he erratic heartbeat. His basic knowledge of human biology reminded him that a fever of this magnitude had the capacity to kill her. He would turn her if need be to save her from this. He would _not_ lose her; it was not an option. As he watched her, seeing her struggling, he wondered if he should take her to the human hospital. Surely they would know what to do? Though if he took her to a human hospital and she was dying it would decrease his chances of turning her in time and that he could not allow to happen. If she was gone he would not be too far behind, even if he had to pick a fight with another coven and allow himself to be ripped apart and burnt, “Do you need the hospital?”

She shook her head, “Not yet, try to get the fever down first.” Demetri could not help but be somewhat relieved that Delphia did not wish to be taken to the human hospital, it made things quite a bit easier on him. He continued to monitor her vitals, her heartbeat hadn’t slowed at all and she still was struggling to breathe.

Demetri heard his cellphone vibrate on the end table next to the couch, he ignored it while he listened to Delphia’s vitals. He was fully intending on ignoring the call but Delphia, having noticed the vibration, reached over and plucked the phone from where it sat and handed it to him without looking at the screen herself. “Go ahead and answer it.”

Demetri did not wish to answer the phone. Della was what happened to be important and he could care less what the vampire on the other line had to say to him. Despite this, Della’s still held the contraption out to him and so he took it from her gently. Briefly glancing at the caller he decided it may be for the best that he answer, perhaps Aurora had seen some sort of glimpse that held answer for how he could help Delphia. “Demetri.”

A deep, somewhat playful voice flooded through the phone, “I confess that I had not given Aurora your number after our last conversation. I will do so after tonight so she can stop insisting I call you when she sees things that have to do with Delphia.”

Demetri couldn’t help himself, he growled at Felix in warning over his playful antics during Demetri’s, or rather Della's, crisis.

“Alright, Demetri, relax. Aurora wishes to speak with you.” There was a sound of the phone being passed around and the movement of clothing through the line. Then the airy voice that Demetri had come to associate with the newest Volturi came over the line. “You need to run a cold bath and fill the water with ice. Put her in the bath as soon as it’s full enough.”

Demetri kissed Della on the forehead and raised from his crouched position in front of her, walking at a human’s pace into the bathroom. He reached into the large Jacuzzi style tub and clogged the drain, turning the handle so that it pointed just above the sign for cold water. As the water began to fill the tub Aurora spoke, “I can hear the running water; you should get the ice now.”

“Do you know what caused this?” Demetri asked in an undertone that only a vampire could hear, heading into the living room once again, placing his hand gently on Delphia’s head as he passed her, attempting to send her whatever little comfort he could through the mating bond that they had yet to consummate. He plucked his room key off the counter of the kitchenette and the small provided bucket for ice. Observing its size Demetri found himself wishing it was larger, wishing it were a barrel that way he would only be forced to make a single trip. Instead, he would have to make several short trips. To look at the silver lining, at least he would be available to check in on Delphia every two minutes or so and wouldn’t be gone for longer than three at most. Focusing back on his phone conversation, Demetri listened to Aurora as he headed down the hallway towards the ice machine.

“I do not, I received images just before I hunted Felix down to have him call you. All I saw was Delphia waking in a sweat and some images having to do with a dark place and ghostly, like something out of a human film, images that I can’t understand. I will work on deciphering them, but for now try to get her body temperature regulated. If the ice bath doesn’t work, take her to a human hospital.”

On his third trip Demetri’s goal was to cover the surface of the bath in the ice and it looked like he had a couple more trips to accomplish that.

“Demetri, listen to me for a moment.” He did as he was bid, not within his right mind to comment on Aurora's demand, as he was of much higher rank than she, even though he had been mostly listening already. “This was not natural. Something caused it; it wasn’t just a regular human body function. I can’t see the future, only snippets of the past and the current so I don’t know what’s going to happen, but whatever just happened to Delphia, it was caused by something. I don’t know if it was somehow one of our kind or something else, but it wasn’t normal. My advice, if you can avoid the hospital; do it.”

Demetri agreed and finally got off the phone with Aurora after another few minutes. He told her that she needed to take his number from Felix’s phone so that she wouldn’t have to go through him whenever something was going on with Delphia. She had agreed and wished him luck, telling him that he should call one of the Volturi members with more human biological savvy if he needed to exhaust more options before taking Della to the hospital.

Once Demetri had completed his sixth and final trip to the ice machine he locked the hotel room door and practically threw the wet bucket into the sink of the kitchenette after dumping its contents into the bathtub. He was in front of Della a few seconds later; her heart beat less frantic but still beating faster than it should be and her breathing was seemingly more under control. Demetri scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bathroom at a quick human’s pace.

He contemplated whether it would be necessary to take her clothes off and decided against it. Della hadn’t been bared completely before him and until she had done so comfortably he thought he probably shouldn’t rush that, unless of course she were to ask. He gently lowered her clothed body into the water, his arms slightly heated from the searing temperature of her flesh. She exhaled in relief as she descended into the water.

After he was sure Della was situated, Demetri kneeled next to the tub and plunged his hands into the water, gently gliding handfuls of water and ice around Della’s face, head, shoulders, and upper arms. The sweat was washed away but her skin still felt warmer than the average human to the touch in the areas that weren’t submerged.

Della moved forward about a foot and a hlaf, her knees raising from the water, she looked over at Demetri and gently, now that her breathing seemed to have gotten under control, asked, “It’s cold in the water, but it feels lukewarm to me. Since you’re cold skinned it probably won’t feel cold to you, either so will you… please?”

She didn’t have to elaborate for Demetri to guess what she wanted. He stood and removed his outer shirt but left his undershirt on, he removed his shoes, socks, and started unbuckling his belt. At Della’s intake of breath, he looked over at his mate with a very serious look upon his face. “These are Armani; I’m not plunging them into ice water. I would have to get them cleaned and it would be a hassle.” Then he winked, causing Della to smile despite how horrible he supposed she felt.

Demetri lowered himself into the cold water, not affected by the temperature of it a bit. He situated his legs on either side of Della and wrapped his arms around her torso, drawing her backwards and into him, so that she could rest her heated back against his cold chest, nuzzling his face into her neck. He supposed it was the thoughts that she could die from fever that caused him to be less effected by her blood in this moment. Nonetheless he was content with the fact that the call for her blood was less strong in this moment.

“Are you feeling any better, _diletta_?”

She seemed to be thinking about it before she answered, “A bit.”

“What happened?” He asked, now that things had calmed down and Della was on the mend he felt it would be wise to attempt to gather information from his mate about what had occurred during her sleep.

“It was weird,” she started, “It was like a dream at first. Something dark and shadowy came to me, started talking and I couldn't understand what it said until it apologized, and then I felt this pulling sensation and everything erupted. It was like lava or a cracking fire in my veins. I can still feel it, It’s kind of like that candy, pop rocks, it's like my system is jittery. Only the sensation is all over my body and it is burning hot. It’s dulling now, but I don’t know if it will go away.”

Demetri fought the urge to growl as he realized that Aurora was right, this had been some kind of supernatural attack. Whomever it was had to have been crafty to slip passed Demetri. He wondered who could have done such a thing, and questioned how it was possible? Delphia’s window did not open, she had no balcony, because the balcony protruded from the living room. So where had the being come from?

And could this being be a vampire or something else? Whatever it was, Demetri had not sensed it. Demetri growled loudly, without thought of how Della might react to that sound rumbling from his chest, as everything began to fall into place as his mind worked over each detail from the moment Della awoke to now. By the thought alone that he had not sensed the presence he could decipher everything, and his research from years’ prior would attest to the plausibility, Demetri _knew_ who could have done this.

~.~.~.~

“You do realize what kind of peril our coven is in now, don’t you? He will come for us, and what will we say when does?” One of the twins, Beau, spat vehemently towards Marie as she walked into the kitchen after her venture into the other realm. His leg had been back in place for only a day and his coven leader had just done something against the wishes of the Volturi’s favorite dog, who had quite skillfully relieved him of limb in a matter of a quarter second. That kind of power and experience should not be trifled. They especially should not be fucking with the Volturi dog's mate, of all humans.

How would they protect their coven now, surely Demetri would realize who could have reached his precious human mate without being sensed by him?

Marie understood the twins’ concern. When she’d come into the house from her walk in the spiritual realm the two of them had sat with a distraught Amos at the dining room table. Actually, sitting was putting it mildly, there were many things strewn through the house and several pieces of broken furniture and the twins where holding each of her mate's arms to ensure he did no move, otherwise he would lose limbs. Marie had growled when she'd seen it. Amos had clearly been upset that Marie had gone into the realm, despite having helped her prepare the ritual. The second Marie entered the kitchen the twins had let him go and he had wrapped his arms completely around his mate, taking in her scent and assuring himself that Marie was still alive and her soul was intact. He knew more than most what could happen when caught in the spiritual realm, as it was a part of his gift though he did not feel as though he had the capability to guide her back.

He would have to find her, wherever she had wandered off, first. That could take decades and a vampire with a lost mate was worse than a vampire with a dead one. A vampire with a lost mate still had purpose, something to fight for, a reason to exist.

 “Nothing will happen to this coven, Beau. I will not allow it.” Marie assured from her mate’s arms as she took in Amos' scent to help ground her as he did the same.

Jack grumbled something about the Volturi to his brother.

Marie let go of Amos and looked over at the twins, she stood tall with her authority as the coven leader, founder, and the one who turned the twins' in the first place. Command dripping from her voice as she said, “Jack, the ancients have a plan. You must trust in that.”

Beau stood from where he sat, his chair slamming violently against the kitchen wall and falling apart at the seams as it impacted, “Do the ancients have our survival in mind, Marie? They didn’t help us when the Volturi was here and ripped my leg off. If they had a plan that worked to our benefit they would have stopped him the second he trespassed the grounds!”

At the disrespectful nature of Beau’s outcry, everything went eerily silent both in and outside the house. Not even a grasshopper made a noise and a dark threatening presence seemed to grow over the land and into the house. Beau and Jack crouched, their instincts telling them to defend themselves against a threat, though they knew that this was not a force they had the ability to protect themselves from.

Marie had stepped out of Amos’ arms as Amos himself emanated this dark energy and anger that mirrored that of the ancient spirits that haunted the land. Beau and Jack stood as still as statues, knowing that if they moved too soon they would surely be dismembered, “You will not speak to my mate in that manner, you will not disrespect the ancient beings that guard this property and your very lives, and you will gladly die if the ancients so saw it in your future. You cannot escape your fates, regardless of what they be. Head my advice, young ones, if you so much as step a toe out of line there will be consequences. Ones you might pay for with your lives.”

Knowing better than to argue with Amos when he was pulling on his power, the twins visibly backed down and stood, hanging their heads in a rather submissive position. They did so to give the illusion that they were leaving the argument and moving forward.

“Get out for a while, find someone to drain and give Amos some time to cool down and give you two time to collect yourselves,” Marie suggested softly as Amos stomped off towards their room upstairs. “And apologize to the ancients, they protected you from Demetri Volturi slaughtering this coven the other night, did they not?”

The twins nodded, unable to argue with their coven leader and flitted out onto the grounds.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Fifteen**

_'Magic isn't real,_ she told herself, _at least be reasonable if you're going to hypothesize.'_

Della had only been dreaming, of that she had been certain. Well, she _thought_ she had been certain. The world that her subconscious had concocted was like something out of a paranormal horror movie; complete with foreboding shadowed figures, and one such figure had crept closer and closer until it was standing on the side of her bed, looming over her. It was as though Della had been cemented in the bed, or perhaps paralyzed, knowing it was a nightmare but unable to move or wake herself. The mystic figure had spoken to her, the voice low but feminine and it had stated some sort of apology _"I'm sorry…."_ It had said, _"you will understand in time."_

And then the fire began.

It had been a dull aching pain for a few microscopic seconds but as it flowed through her body it was like her very blood had been turned to gasoline and someone had uncaringly tossed a match onto a punctured vein. Della woke and shot straight up in bed. The fire surged within her and she screamed as the burning pain of it flowed from her abdominal area and spread in all directions. She could feel it all the way to her fingertips and her toes, to her head. _'Is this what hell feels like?'_ she asked herself internally, and questioning, _'Is this what I get for New York?'_ tears threatened to overflow until she felt a soothing presence invade the room.

 _'Demetri,'_ she had immediately thought, and she had been right. She felt his cold hand touch her searing face and heard him question her.

“Tell me what is wrong.” He had demanded, and in his eyes was a look that she hadn't seen before on his perfect features. She'd seen many looks on Demetri, stoic, teasing, determined, passionate, but never had she seen such a terrified expression, flit across his features.

It's started to become difficult to breathe to the point where she thought she might have to be rushed to the emergency room. After a few seconds she also started to become nauseous, but was able to calm her stomach but she still hadn't been able to level her breathing. She threw the covers off herself in a move meant to calm her nausea and maybe settle the rising fire in her veins. “Hot. I'm…burning.” Was all she managed to get out through her strangled breaths.

When Demetri effortlessly lifted her into his arms, she could feel the chilliness of his skin where it brushed hers, helping soothe the area.  In Demetri's grasp Della began to feel marginally cooler, and realized that this was what she needed, to get _cold_. She directed Demetri to the thermostat, told him to turn the temperature down as far as it would go. Anything to make the heat stop. He'd been so attentive, she was beyond grateful, there was no telling where she would be if he weren't there.

His phone vibrated and he was ignoring it. His worry for her was visible, despite his calm exterior. She reached over and plucked the phone from the end table and handed it to him. She felt like he might need a distraction from her situation while she tried to figure out what to do next. Her head was beginning to feel like it was splitting as it pounded in tune with her rapidly beating heart, her body only cooling fractionally as the air conditioning kicked on. Demetri was wandering in and out of the room and the bathroom, he seemed to be going to the ice machine down the hall. She guessed he was running her an ice bath, though she was unsure, she wasn’t paying close attention due to the fact she was trying to steady her breathing. All she could feel was the heat and her hear pounded heavily in her chest.

She hadn't realized he was back until he lifted her into his arms once again.

In the bathroom she noticed that her suspicions were correct, he had been filling the tub. There was a layer of ice across the top of it. She had never seen a sight so welcoming. He effortlessly lowered her into the bathtub and Della instantly felt much better. ' _I'm surprised my body didn't steam,_ ´ she thought jokingly. Demetri had stayed and ran his hands over her exposed shoulders and arms to keep the cold water. Della wanted to cry, from a combination of the heat, her pain, and Demetri's genuine kindness, but she was still hot, and her back wasn't cooling.

She remembered that Demetri had freezing cold skin and asked him to get in with her, almost completely sure he would not refuse. And she had been right. After Demetri had gotten in the tub she started feeling even better, the throbbing in her head started to decrease, she was no longer nauseated, and she felt a lot calmer in his presence. Everything was going to be alright.

Now, two hours later, it was six in the morning and Della sat on the couch with her laptop, researching what might have caused the sudden onslaught of heat that had woken her from a dead sleep. She wondered if the dream had meant anything, and she was busy switching from tab to tab on her internet browser, intent on learning about how to interpreted dreams and fevers. The heat was now a dull and manageable throb in her body, pounding just as much as her pulse and she could feel it. Her skin was still warm, but not overly so. It was highly uncomfortable but she was taking solace in the fact that she was able to ignore it for a few minutes when she was focused on something in particular.

All in all, it was manageable now at least.

Demetri had been constantly worried about what he could do for her. She'd never seen him so worked up about something. He even fidgeted, and she knew from all the time she'd spent with him that he did _not_ fidget. It was as if he was composed in his speech and his attitude, but his body was betraying his mental ponderings. In order to give him something to do, something that would make him feel better, Della had to come up with a task for him, so he could do something to help. As soon as the local Starbucks opened she asked him to get her an iced drink. If only to give him something to do because he had been frantically pacing asking every five minutes or asking if she was okay, if there was something he could do.

He hadn’t wanted to leave, and he made that fairly evident. He’d actually _called_ Starbucks and asked if a barista would bring the drink to the hotel. Unfortunately, Della had to inform him that such a thing would be impossible but it hasn't stopped him from calling and attempting to bribe said barista with two hundred dollars, USD. Apparently the Barista insisted that she couldn’t, and so Demetri had left vowing to return in no more than twenty minutes, reminding Della to stay safe and making sure his number was in her cell phone in case something happened.

He was beyond over protective, but given the circumstances she guessed he was within his right to worry over her current condition.

Still, she doubted that something would happen in the twenty minutes he was gone.

Della sighed out loud staring at her computer screen. Unfortunately, she was coming up blank. She had no idea what was wrong with her, the conditions mentioned didn't add up to what she had felt, and there was no suggestion for 'feeling like you're on fire,' except for. _If you're on fire this is a medical emergency, please call 911 now._

And she wasn’t menopausal, thanks very much WebMD.

Her cellphone went off and, frowning in confusion, Della looked over to see the screen lit up with Demetri’s name. She rolled her eyes good naturedly, but was touched that he was calling despite the fact that he had only been gone for maybe ten minutes. Answering, Della joked, “There's a gas leak in the hotel and their evacuating, but I'm staying in because there are like seven vampires here from that one TV show, and they brought one of those trolls from Harry Potter plus a keg. It’s a real party in this penthouse, all we need is a swimming pool and a few bottles of vodka, do you mind grabbing a few bottles while you're out?”

There was a pause, “…Sarcasm is the lowest form of whit, diletta”

“Actually I heard sarcasm was a prelude to prominence.”

Della could have sworn she heard him mutter something about humans. It could have been a trick of the mind but to Della this little information was a pretty firm reminder that Demetri wasn’t human. Despite the fact that he'd acted as such and even been so incredibly sweet and attentive over the last few hours. Not to mention everything that had happened over the last few days.

Della felt like there was so much she needed to be grateful to Demetri for, despite her misgivings about what he might be.

“I called to be sure you were faring well in my absence. Since I find that you are having a party in a soon to be burning hotel with seven vampires and a troll I will leave you to your fun.” He responded, she could hear the smile in his voice and could imagine it touching his lips wherever he was.

Della laughed, though it was strained from the pain few hours' prior, her body worn from its fight against the fever, “See you in a few.”

She closed her laptop after putting her phone down. She knew that she might not be able to go anywhere today, in fact she knew that she had better not chance it, lest she end up in the same position as this morning only in public. If it happened again she would have to go to the hospital. It was the worst pain imaginable, she was surprised she'd even survived the pain, let alone what the fever must have been. At the same time, regardless of her body functions, she wanted to get out and have fun. She had meant to spend all night hanging out with Demetri and enjoying the NOLA nightlife. Go to a free music show, check out a local bar, literally _anything_ but fall asleep so early in the afternoon and wake up feeling like a dragon decided to burn her and eat her whole because it likes its food extra crispy.

Della couldn’t help but go over all of the things that had happened since she left Detroit. The men in the ally, Demetri showing up, Marie, Demetri again, Marie again, aquarium, Demetri's minor confessions, Demetri's major confessions, her suspicions about Marie, Demetri asking her to move into a hotel with him, and now waking up on fire during the first night sleeping in the fancy hotel. Could they all be coincidence? There was no way, her instincts were telling her that everything was correlated somehow, it had to be. There was no other explanation. But how?

Demetri and Marie, everything was about Demetri and Marie, minus the mugger/rapists. But what about how she'd woken this morning? Demetri had been in the hotel, but not in the room. She guessed Marie had been home.

But Marie had welcomed her the other day in the bakery. '... _let me be the first to welcome you_.' She had said. What the hell had that meant?

 _Everything leads back to Demetri and Marie._ She thought. _They know each other, I'm sure of it._ But why was _she_ needed, why was she being welcomed?

Demetri insisted he couldn't tell her anything, but why? Because he would be in trouble if he told her things? Perhaps that was truth but what else was there? Della felt like she was on the cusp of finally understanding what the fuck was happening, what was going on? But she was still missing key variables. She couldn't come to a good enough conclusion, one that would actually sum it all up and wrap it in a nice package, without all of the variables.

Were they witches? Demetri had said no, but the dream and the weird apology seemed like enough to point to someone having cast some sort of spell. Della mentally cursed all the books she'd read when she was younger. Damn it, Harry Potter!

 _Magic isn't real,_ she told herself, _at least be reasonable if you're going to hypothesize._

But then again, inhuman beings weren't either and she was believing that well enough when the stories were spun from Demetri's mouth.

Her train of thought threw on the emergency break as Demetri came in the door carrying a bag and an iced drink from Starbucks and a plastic 'Thank-You!' bag from a pharmaceutical store and placed them down in front of Della. His jaw was set in a firm line as his eyes stared unblinkingly down at her from where he stood.

“Thanks, Dem. I really appreciate it.” She stated quietly, mind still reeling from her thoughts but still grateful for how he had taken care of her the past few hours.

His hand darted out he brushed his knuckles across her face and his head tilted sideways. He seemed contemplative before he spoke, “You still feel warm, but far less so than several hours ago.” He reached into the plastic pharmaceutical bag and pulled out a small box, opening it and taking a thermometer out of it, “I would like to know what your internal temperature is. We need to monitor to be sure if you should be taken to a hospital.”

Della nodded, she never much liked hospitals but she agreed that it she might have to go to one. It would be kind of difficult, though, she didn't have insurance anymore and she'd be stuck with a debt. She didn’t want debt; it was one thing she had been careful to avoid racking up over the years. She'd even paid the difference of what her financial aid wouldn't pay for with her own money, hoping to get out of school with as little loan debt as possible. Demetri turned the small contraption on and handed it to Della who put it in her mouth, sliding it under her tongue. Demetri took a seat next to her and put the television on, keeping the channel on the history channel since it was a subject they could both agree on.

When the little stick beeped Demetri, who was somehow able to see the number from his position (whereas Della couldn't see it when she stared down at it and it was only two inches away) stated, “106.3.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach, Della was shocked. “If it’s that high now and I’m still functioning with minimal discomfort then that means that earlier it must have been, at very least, at brain damaging levels or worse. How am I not dead?”

Della suddenly grew very worried as to how she was still alive. Not that she was ungrateful, but a fever as high as she was running right now should be making her sick and she shouldn't really be doing anything but ice bathing and resting, based on the little research she had done while Demetri was gone. Could the thermometer be broken? Or was it accurate and Della was somehow surviving this fever?

Demetri looked at her incredulously, as if the thought of her fever from earlier being high enough to kill her was unbelievable and he questioned, “The ice bath, perhaps?”

Della shook her head, just as blown away by her temperature as he was, if not more so, “An ice bath is recommended if you’re running the temperature I am running _right now_ , Dem, earlier it may have helped ease the discomfort but I should have been dead.”

Della watched as Demetri’s eyes went from his brown contacts to black, the contacts dissolving before Della’s eyes. Her heartbeat picked up pace she sucked in a breath at the revelation that _something_ in him caused the contacts to be incinerated. How was that possible? She didn't get a chance to think about it as he growled deeply, like a rumble in his chest pushing outward. She'd heard that sound before, earlier in the bathtub when he'd been behind her helping her back cool down, at the time she hadn't had a second to really think about it but hearing it now scared her.

 “I would not have allowed you to die.”

He said it with finality, like he had some sort of control over how and when Della would die. The thought of it frightened her a bit more than the growl, she was a firm believer in inevitable death, in fate. So, in hopes of bringing the conversation back to her temperature and away from whatever he was trying to convey, she stated, “You can’t fight fate, Dem, but that’s not really the point right now. The point is _how_ I could have survived such a high temperature and _how_ I am not suffering at this high temperature right now?”

Demetri’s eyes were still black as he lightly grasped both sides of her face. His eyes were like tar, and they were drawing her in. They made her dizzy, a feeling that she detested, and tried to focus on his words rather than the things her traitorous body was making her feel with Demetri in such close proximity. “I _will_ fight fate; I will fight the _Titans_ if that is what it would take to save you. Death is not an option for you, _mia cara_. You will not die, not permanently, and even as your body fails you I will rescue you. And if I should fail then I shall follow you, that is my solemn oath.”

Della had no idea what to say, she was completely taken aback by his profession, it was the most beautiful declaration she had ever heard from someone. She felt like, perhaps, Demetri thought of her the way she thought of him. But at the same time it terrified her, she was absolutely terrified that he might feel the same for her as she did for him. She, who wouldn't settle. She would never be constant; she didn't know how to be.

If she allowed for it she would take Demetri down with her. Della didn't think she could. He had it in his mind that he was a sort of savior. He seemed quite self-assured that he could save her, in fact.

While all these thoughts circulated through Della's head, Demetri continued, “Trust me, Delphia, death will not separate me from you. I have waited too long.”

Her eyes narrowed in thought at that, she didn't understand what he meant. Instead of sitting on it for later, Della decided it would be better to ask. He seemed to be in a sharing mood. “What do you mean you’ve waited too long, Demetri?”

Demetri stopped moving. Completely stopped moving entirely, he looked like a statue, he did not blink, he did not breathe, yet his face did not grow red like it should when a person doesn't breathe. Demetri just stood there for a solid thirty seconds before he exhaled. He took a couple of steps forwards and held her face in his hands once again. In his eyes was a raw emotion, something she couldn't name, something strong and it invoked a feeling in her that she'd never encountered before. He was silent for a few more moments, but she could see that he was going to tell her. If he wasn't he already would have told her he wouldn't. “I have waited over a millennium for my soulmate. I will not let her die from a gods' damn fever!”

“A millennium?” Della questioned, backing out of his grasp, baffled. She saw the hurt flash in his eyes and ached to move back into his arms and give him comfort, but his confession was too much. He was either insane or he was telling the truth. She guessed it may have been a bit of both. “How is that possible?”

Demetri seemed to stop himself from saying more. He stood, the hurt look now wiped away as if it had never been there. She could tell he wasn't planning on telling her anything this time. Della grabbed her phone from the coffee table in her left hand, feeling like she might need to take a short walk to get a little fresh air after all. The omitted truths were starting to get to her. The soulmate confession was freaking her out. He was… soulmates did not exist! How could they? She could feel herself itching to run and was having a harder time suppressing it. She wasn't deserving of someone like Demetri. All Della would do is ruin his life, that was for sure. She didn't know how to maintain friendships, let alone relationships. And yet the thought of leaving him punched a whole into her body. Demetri touched her arm lightly, not wrapping his fingers around her just barely touching his hand to her arm, to stop her from going and she whirled around with a raised eyebrow.

“I cannot tell you that yet.”

Della took a deep breath, she was acting irrationally, “Okay, then the soul mate bit? You think I would just believe that? Soul mates don’t exist, they’re a made up story to give young people a fantasized view of the world, it's an illusion made up to give people something to hope for, something to strive to obtain.” She continued to walk to her room, though she knew he was following.

Demetri stood in the door way of Della’s room as she gathered her purse and car keys. Her phone in hand she stepped around him and back out into the living room space.  His face was stone, as if he were pretending that nothing she was doing was bothering him currently. Though she could tell by the way that he stuck close to her all he wanted to do was keep her holed up in this room.

Della was feeling suffocated. She needed a chance to get out, to breathe without him crowding her. She needed to think long and hard about everything she'd thought earlier, everything that had happened, and Demetri's own confession. Because as stupid as Della thought it was, she believed him.

What else could explain the feeling she got when she met his eyes?

What else could explain her sense of home when she was near him?

And what else could explain the fact that she'd fought her urge to run in the opposite direction that first night in New Orleans when he'd appeared out of nowhere.

“That is not what soul mates are, though technically the term is true mate to my kind, Delphia, and part of you is very aware that we are what I say we are. You stated yourself we were destined to meet.” He reasoned, standing just in front of her, near the door but not blocking it. He would let her go without a hassle if she wanted out, she knew it. He would not stand in her way.

She thought about what he said for a moment. Soul mate, he'd said, no… _true mate_. Had he known? Had he known before they'd met? Was that why they'd had a 'chance meeting' in Detroit and he'd followed her? Is that why he was here? Because of some misguided illusion that they were destined to be together? Della snapped, “Destined to meet?" She laughed, tears brimming her eyes as her mind began to convince her that Demetri was a lie, that everything he said was a lie, and that he was a master manipulator. She needed to go, needed to think, before she said something that went too far. "I have a feeling it’s all been a setup from day one!”

Her face seemed to get more red every word she spoke, and her body began to heat. The popping she'd felt in her system began to bubble to the surface and she grew more and more angry. She knew that the situation did not merit an anger of this magnitude but she couldn't stop it from growing. She could feel her skin begin to coat in a layer of sweat and Demetri's face began to morph from stoic to concerned. Suddenly her hand was no longer hot, but normal. She looked down and she gasped in shock, dropping a half melted cellphone to the floor at red, orange, and blue flames flickered in between the fingers of her hand before blinking out of existence.

 _'What the fuck?'_ She thought her heart beat quickening as the heat in her body died down to a bearable low once again, _'I gotta get out of here.'_

“Della,” Demetri began, taken back by what just happened and he moved towards her, arms outstretched just slightly away from his sides as if to embrace her. He was stopped as Della held up her other hand, the one that hadn't melted her cellphone.

“Let me go, Demetri, I have to think.” She sighed and walked out of the door, without turning back.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Sixteen**

_When she met his red eyes, she sighed, “Found me.” It hadn't sounded spiteful, just tired in a way. Like she was exhausted._

Demetri had never done anything so insanely asinine in his existence and unfortunately this seemed to be becoming a new theme since the moment he had first seen Delphia inside of that hospital room with her dying Grandfather. Demetri speaking when he should remain silent, forgetting to maintain his red eye concealing contacts, revealing truth when he should not do so. Not to mention the most foolish decision he had made yet; allowing Delphia to walk out of the room without him after waking in a dead sweat and having to be cooled with an ice bath not a few hours prior. How utterly ridiculous of him. Demetri was better than this, he _knew_ better than this.

And he had revealed that they were _true_ _mates_.

The fact that the statement and implication had been the cause for Delphia to flee sent a stabbing pain through his unbeating heart.

Demetri stood as a likeness of a marble statue in the middle of the suite’s living room. If Delphia reacted this way to his revelation about the fact that they were mates, then her reaction to him being a vampire would be double to triple this, he was sure. He kept a close tab on her whereabouts, she was in town, heading towards the more rural areas. The sun would be up for several hours yet. He couldn’t leave unless he pulled out his Volturi cloak and if he were to find Delphia whilst wearing the cloak that would be cause for more suspicion and more questioning, especially in the New Orleans heat.

He weighed his options for a while, coming up with multiple scenarios and shuffling through them like a card deck. He could follow her, scaling the rooftops while it was still early enough in the morning that humans may not see him and wear his cloak to keep hidden from the sun. This was the least agreeable solution, too many things could happen to hinder his movements, to many risks of exposure. And the idea of Aro seeing him though his gift jumping from roof to roof around humans in the daylight caused Demetri to think heavily against that option. No, Demetri could wait until sundown, which was another ten or so hours away. He huffed in annoyance and decided to keep up with Della’s movements until dusk, at very least.  

He had no other choice that wouldn’t cause him more exposure.

At least this option would give Delphia enough time to rationalize her thoughts and his confession, though he was nervous she could be injured during the time she was away from him. He worried over her as he thought about the condition she was in.

He glanced over at the melted mass of what used to be Delphia’s cellular phone. Demetri flitted to it and picked it up from the floor, noting the carpet beneath it had been seared by its impact. He would have to pay for that, not that it mattered. Demetri turned his attention to the small device. It looked as though someone had set the electronic on fire, the plastic was caved in and warped, the screen cracked, and everything was blackened around where Della had been clutching it.

Had Delphia always been able to melt objects when she grew angry? She had not spoken of it to him, at the same time she was justified in omitting that if it were true, for she still didn't completely trust him. He thought back to Della's face in that moment. His sharp mind conjuring the image as if she were still standing directly in front of him. Della's eyes had grown wide as she realized what she had done and she’d quickly dropped the phone as if offended by it. Demetri scrutinized his memory of the events, looking for any other indicators.  

After several minutes of pondering and shuffling through memories of Delphia, Demetri came to the conclusion that Della hadn’t known she would do this and therefore this ability was new to her. Demetri stood like a statue contemplating everything he knew about Della until his thoughts rested on what Marie had told him.

 _‘I say she will give the world renowned witch twins a run for their title.’_ The words echoed in his mind like a warning he had not heeded. Marie had told him and he hadn’t thought of it as a cautioning at the time. He had been preoccupied with Delphia's safety and hadn't split his attention appropriately. Perhaps the witch vampire had been telling him something crucial, and he'd missed it entirely in his excitement that Delphia would be gifted.  

Delphia had woken in a fevered state.

Della had melted the phone in her hand.

Della was _human_.

He thought of the witch twins. Jane and Alec had abilities as humans, they weren't strong abilities and had not been particularly manifested in one way or another when they were humans. Yet when they were turned they became the most feared vampires of the world besides the Kings themselves.

Demetri then thought of Marie. Marie had abilities before she was turned, particularly strong ones, and Demetri did not know the extent of her power on her homela…

Demetri growled as the pieces began to snap together once again like a puzzle made out of magnates. He did not know of the extent of Marie’s reach over her land and what she could do with the spiritual realm, but he had an idea that Marie had done something to cause Della's fever the night before. Delphia had mentioned something about a mystic figure standing over her and then she woke up to the burning interior heat. Could Marie have headed his threat not to come near Delphia by coming near her through her power’s access to the spiritual plane? He was certain.

In fact, it was highly possible, if not completely probable. The problem was the he had no evidence that would suggest as such. And even still, had she done it she did not technically cause harm to Delphia, although she very well could have _killed_ his mate. Legally he could not kill Marie without the evidence to support his theory. Demetri toyed with the idea of doing so anyways to be rid of the woman.

But, he could not justify it. Marie had been law abiding for decades. In fact, Aro may even become upset with Demetri for murdering her without proper evidence and reason. Aro would not be particularly thrilled that the witch vampire died because of a theory. He pinched the bridge of his nose and followed his thoughts, body unmoving as the time ticked forward.

One thing was absolutely certain, he needed to confirm his suspicions about Delphia having her abilities triggered as a human. Once he did so duty told him he would have to inform Aro.

And once he informed Aro, the King may just order that Delphia be brought home immediately and changed. If that happened then she would surely hate him for a millennium, at best.

~.~.~.~

Beau and Jack stayed in an old cabin on the opposite side of town than the rest of their Coven for the day. Both were indescribably angry with Marie and Amos for putting their coven in danger of the Volturi’s wrath. The way they saw it, moving through the spiritual realm was enough to rile suspicion in the ancient vampire and if he had enough time without a fight then the Volturi’s dog would be able to call in reinforcements and they would be killed.

Not that reinforcements would be necessary, as Demetri alone had showed phenomenal skill and force that the two could not dream of countering.

The last thing Beau and Jack wanted was for the Volturi to annihilate them. They'd only lived a good hundred and twenty years, and therefore their lives were still quite young as vampires. They'd prefer to live forever, basked in what it meant to be a vampire. Marie had tried to curb their voracious appetites for years to no avail. Beau and Jack loved being vampires, and the raw power that came with it. But Marie and Amos had been insistent on the twins assimilating to the 'vampire way,' and learning self-control.

Although they had been with Marie and Amos for several decades, since Marie had turned them, the twins were still very much oriented to their own agendas and gains. They invested in the stock market secretly for themselves, kept themselves from rooting their names into the NOLA Coven, so as to easier join a stronger one if afforded the opportunity. There were many things they'd done to separate themselves from Amos and Marie.  Staying with Marie had been one-part obligation to learn the laws and the ropes of the Vampire world and one-part instinct to remain in a powerful coven.

At this point, neither of these were reasons were holding them in New Orleans, and since the Volturi had shown up a week prior tensions had grown within the coven. Marie and Amos were doing some shady business with spirits and the paranormal realm. When the two coven leaders messed with spirits Beau and Jack tended to get a little more than antsy; they wanted to leave. Things would always calm down but this time was different, this time the twins decided that Marie and Amos had gone too far. Messing with a current and a future Volturi was going _too far_.

The twins knew better than to think the Volturi dog would allow them to live after having lunged at him even once. He would be coming for them, and after whatever Marie had done to the dog's mate would have Demetri gunning for the whole coven. The only way to save themselves was to make sure that Aro would never know about their fight with Demetri, and the only way to do that would be to either kill Demetri’s mate or Demetri himself. The best option would be to kill both, because killing the human would only result in a broken but vengeful vampire, a powerful one that could find them anywhere. The only problem was that they were having trouble finding an opening for Demetri and his mate to be separated.

The twins had remained downwind, spying from a distance sporadically since the night Demetri had torn Beau’s leg off and used it as a bargaining chip with Marie. It had been tricky, one wrong move just a fraction too close, remaining in the way of the wind if it changed directions, and they would have been caught and slaughtered. Demetri had threatened the coven if they were to come to close to Delphia, but New Orleans was _their_ region, their land. They wanted vengeance against Demetri for his arrogance. They had plotted and planned for hours, then the night before when Marie had come back from the other side, their plans had been finalized.

Just after dawn just that morning Delphia Payne drove out of the parking garage _alone_. Such an opportunity could not be avoided and they'd happily thanked the spirits that Marie and Amos believed so strongly in for the opportunity. The twins had followed her, stalking their prey, hunting, tucked away under hoods all day, wearing gloves to keep their skin from being seen. One of the wonderful perks of being a vampire, the could see clearly from miles away.

Stalking prey was one of their favorite pastimes, and they were incredibly good at it.

Delphia had stopped the car and walked along the French Quarter for hours. They watched her having lunch in a McDonald’s not too far from her car. Around four she drove towards the bayou and had entered a park that was best known for being rather secluded.

And now…

Now sundown was fast approaching.

~.~.~.~

It didn’t take long for Demetri to find Delphia once the sun had descended far enough for him to have proper cover. He remained in the tree lines, watching her from a far as she sat cross-legged on the hood of her vehicle, music playing softly from the interior of the mustang. She was staring with unseeing eyes at the setting sun as it slowly fell below the tree line.

Regardless of how angry she was, Demetri couldn’t help but feel he was seeing Aphrodite and Athena wrapped up into one Della sized human. She was stunningly beautiful, the sun reflecting on her humanly pale flesh. He had gotten lucky that the gods had made her for him, but there were many trials and tribulations ahead of them, this he was keenly aware of.

But one day, one day they would be happy.

The second the sun descended below the tree line Demetri walked at a human’s pace out from the trees and into Della’s field of vision. Her head turned to the right and she frowned, biting her lip as she sighed in resignation. She was clearly still angry but she had calmed and she hadn't run from him. This was at least a good sign. She was right to be angry with him, for more reasons then she already knew. Demetri had not stopped thinking about her all day. Thought about how he would approach her and what justifications he would give. How he could tell her the truth without telling her the truth. How he could make things right.

These questions were beyond his experience level.

When she met his red eyes, she sighed, “Found me.”

It hadn't sounded spiteful, just tired in a way. Like she was exhausted, he supposed that had he woken with a fever and then been told he had a soulmate and melted a cellphone in the same day he would be rather exhausted as well if he were human. “Of course.” He responded tentatively as he came to stand beside the hood of her vehicle. Not in front of Delphia but beside her, as equals or partners.

He hoped she would pick up on the subtlety.

“I’m still angry, but not nearly as much as I was this morning.” Delphia confessed, sliding from where she sat in the middle of the hood to the side of it, closer to Demetri, and dangled her legs off the side so that her heals were hitting the top of her front passenger tire. He took this as a good sign as she sheepishly looked to the ground and bounced her right heal off the rubber of the tire. “I melted the phone.”

He nodded, “That you did.”

“I don’t know how I did it.” She confessed, looking over at him in the fading light.

He observed her face. She looked conflicted and miserable, perhaps confused. He wished he could justify kissing her forehead at that moment or pulling her closely to him and wrapping her into his cold embrace. The pull he was feeling to do so was almost uncontrollable. She was hurting, and he had spent the entire day watching her whereabouts and being sure she was still moving. He watched Marie and her mate as well, they had remained in their home the majority of the day. He’d been concerned and it had been rather mentally strenuous.

The bottom line was right now they needed each other. He knew this to be fact, but she did not and that was the only reason that he held himself back.

“We will discover this ability together, if you will forgive me for hiding information from you.” Demetri could smell the salt tears as they welled in Delphia’s eyes while she looked away from him. “I will tell you, _bella cara_.”

“You make it worse by holding it off so long. Whatever it is it can’t be worse than what my mind has conjured in the past week.” She stated quietly, though her tone was quite scolding despite her quiet voice.

“I do not view my secrets as unscrupulous, but Delphia you're a human, and human would see things differently about my kind than how my kind views ourselves. I want you to know me before you judge my character based on mythology that has been engrained in you since the cradle.”

Della scoffed lightly, “I had a bassinette.”

Demetri chuckled darkly and ran his knuckles along her jaw, unable to hold back just a touch. The feeling of her warm skin beneath his knuckles calmed him substantially, and Delphia visibly relaxed. He had been correct, they needed each other. They had been in close proximity to each other for several days now. It was too late to back out, they were dependent on each other.  “I am sorry I did not tell you of our connection sooner, _diletta_.”

“I stand by what I said, soul mates don’t exist.”

“They do in my world.” Demetri countered, observing as Della's face lit into a half smile although she was still vehemently against the idea of true mates.

The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of two vampires. Scents that he recognized. Demetri mentally cursed himself, he hadn’t watched the two other members of the Laveau coven all day. He was being so careless, he vowed not to be again, not after today. The results of his carelessness were clearly detrimental to Delphia. The twin vampires were approaching quickly, intentionally. Demetri growled and tensed, causing Della to jump. “Delphia, please, if there is any trust in you for me, please get into the vehicle and stay there.”

Della slid off the hood of the vehicle and touched his arm lightly, she opened her mouth to speak but Demetri cut her off, “Please.”

She stood her ground. “What is it?”

The two were there, it was too late. They stood where Demetri had come out of in the woods, moving so they were only one hundred yards away, mere inches to a vampire who could cross that distance with less than a second of time passed. Demetri pushed Della behind him, positioning himself as a shield to her and the twins laughed.

“Defending your mate is probably the most admirable thing I have heard of you doing, Volturi. You must admit it has you at a disadvantage to protect a human while fighting off two other vampires.” One of them stated in a menacing tone.

Demetri growled, these two had made a mistake in approaching him and Delphia. The second Demetri had picked up their scent they had made their intentions known to him. They would die for it, even if they tried to recant later he would still kill them. They knew it already; they were prepared to fight. Though Demetri wondered if Marie was a part of this or if they had left the coven. “I think you will find that my skill far outweighs yours. You seem to have a combined experience of a tavern maid.”

Demetri knew Beau was a terrible fighter, but Jack, _Jack_ he would need to look out for. Their similarities made it difficult to differentiate the two, but Beau had a bite mark on his neck just under the jaw the last time they had met. Quickly, Demetri ran probabilities and how he could stave off the two of them. They were twins, clearly close. He knew from years of experience and living among Alec and Jane that twins would typically do _anything_ for one another. Their bond would be strong. His plan formed quickly, as most of his plans did. The plan was simple; draw attention to an injured Beau, the weaker of the two, and Jack would abandon a mission to kill Della in favor of saving his brother.

Though, that would not work if the twins had any bad blood between them. It didn't seem so in their prior confrontation. Even still, if they succeeded and he failed then killing a mate would ensure the wrath of the vampire left and thus a rage would ensue. The vampire left over being him, Demetri knew that these twins would go nowhere he could not find them, and he would hunt them and slaughter them even if it took years. They would die, and he would tear apart his own limbs to ignite the fire that would burn him to ashes, if Delphia were to fall here. Either way, the twins would die. Surely they knew that?

But Della's death was not an option.

“Miss Delphia, you are as lovely as Marie says. I believe if it weren’t for Demetri you would be waking into a new life by now…” Jack said, smirking casually, “Though by how you woke this morning I would say you’ve still managed to wake into a new life. It will not last. You will either be dead or a vampire soon enough.”

Demetri practically felt the fear dripping from his mate in waves.

“Della, stay calm.” Demetri warned, hoping she wouldn’t become angry and begin setting things ablaze. Her ability was still unknown territory and if the twins managed to take one of his limbs and Della set a fire then Demetri could be killed or lose a limb forever, his usefulness would be decreased astronomically. Aro would be furious.

“Don’t tell me to stay calm. This asshole just said _vampire_!” She growled out, he could hear her jaw clench and her teeth grind together, but he could not turn around to comfort or explain to his mate at this moment. He was still focused on the twins and their movements. They hadn't moved a fraction yet, but they would soon.

Beau laughed outright, as if Della's statement was the most hilarious that he'd ever heard. “So he didn’t tell you he was a vampire? The great Volturi enforcer, a gentle lover? I am surprised! I would have been willing to bet my life’s savings that you would have told her to ensure she be turned. But as usual it’s one law for us and one for the Volturi.”

Demetri growled again, this time because he was tired of listening to these two prattle on. It was reminiscent to the fights of old when the conversations leading up to battle were lengthy. He had never been one to allow the conversation to go on for long, even with what he could remember of his human life. So, Demetri lunged at Jack just after Beau's final word quickly snapping his arms off from his body before the younger vampire had a second to process Demetri's movement. Jack growled and cried in pain as his limbs separated, he quickly found his footing, but was now armless. The three circled each other. In the distance, Demetri could hear Della’s heart beat pick up.

Time slowed

Was she terrified for herself, after seeing what he had done?

Did he blame her?

Should she be terrified for herself, with him as a mate?

These thoughts he pushed aside immediately as time speed up once again and Beau lunged at Demetri and they collided, the sound of two boulders smashing against one another resounded through the woods around them but they weren't done. Beau knocked Demetri backwards. Just as Demetri regained his footing he saw that Beau had been distracting him from Jack as the armless pest stalked at a human pace towards Della.

Demetri cried out, panic striking deep into his body, and lunged, but Beau caught him by the arms, whirling Demetri towards a tree. On impact the tree snapped in half at the bottom of the trunk and both halves began falling their respective directions. Demetri was back up in seconds and ripping Beau’s head from his body when he heard it.

The distinct, and disturbing, sound of venom going up in flames.

It was a sound he'd relished in as a member of the Volturi guard. He knew it well.

As he separated Beau’s head from his body Demetri turned around and gaped in shock as fire surrounded the body of Jack. His heightened vision could see every detail as the he followed the flames that danced around Jack and he watched as they slowly retracted, creeping backwards the way Alec's paralyzing vapor would, back to their source; Delphia’s finger tips.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- There is a mention of kidnapping, child abuse, and malignant intentions in this chapter. It shouldn't be too bad; I didn't go into too much detail about that. I don't want to trigger anyone.

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Seventeen**

Della felt her entire body clench tightly, as if it were reacting to a physical trauma and preventing further injury. The feeling of liquid fire slowly eased from her like water falling from a body after a swim. She faintly wondered if, in fact, the man _had_ harmed her as she watched the fire that had retracted into her finger tips slowly blink out of existence.

Delphia examined her hands, eyes wide with shock and disbelief as she noticed that they were untouched by the fire. There were no burns or black marks showing that flames had only moments ago engulfed them. Her awe was short lived, however, as she looked up just slightly and saw the ashes that lay before her. All that was left of a young man that only minutes ago was living.

The remnants of a person that had a future, a future that _she_ had taken.

 _Murder_. In the English language, there are many words to describe this act of debauchery, but it always comes back to the same definition; the taking of another's life. Years ago, murder was an acceptable act it was just _human nature_ and an argument can be made for the idea that murder is still very much a part of human nature. Is the act then morally ambiguous? It had been done for centuries, millennia even, whether through judicial action or in recompense for a man stealing another man’s chicken it has been ingrained in human cultures since the dawn of time.

But is it _right_?

In self-defense, yes, some would justify murder.

But does it make it right to murder even to preserve one’s own life? Would the sanctity of life then be corrupted by self-preservation?

And this man had lost his _arms_. What danger could he have been?

“Delphia.”

A gentle voice attempted to pull Della out of her internal ponderings. She had forgotten that he was there, and now that she'd heard his voice it spurred on far more memories of the encounter. Della took a shuddering breath as she began to replay events the events that had just taken place.

Everything had happened so quickly. One moment she was sitting on the hood of her car contemplating everything that had been happening and how badly she just wanted to let things go and live in peace, knowing that she couldn’t do that. The next she was reconciling with Demetri, and things were seeming to get a little better. She wasn’t feeling so lost with him by her side. Perhaps there was a sort of truth in the ‘soul mate’ theory, but she did not fully agree. Demetri had found her, clearly using his ability to do so because she no longer had a phone and he couldn't have called her to ask where she was, she hadn't seen him all day.

And then they were being attacked.

The three of them, the two who were attacking and Demetri, were moving at speeds that Della couldn’t keep up with. _Vampire_ , the one had said. Though she didn’t have much time to think about it. Demetri was a vampire, that much she was certain could not be denied. Everything she knew would make sense, even if it didn't honor the traditional 'fangs and coffin' Dracula style of vampire. His red eyes, pale pallor, aversion to food, gift, and even the fact that he didn't sleep. Everything pointed to Demetri being a vampire. Della didn't know what to think, and for the most part she hadn't had a chance to do so quite yet, as all that was honestly sinking in at that moment was the fact that Demetri had ripped off the arms of a man right in front of her.

And then he was thrown into the tree line, the only hint of the movement that Della even noticed was the sound of the tree falling and the fact that Demetri and the other man had suddenly disappeared from her sight. The armless one stood, flashing in front of her before Della could blink, let along think og some sort of strategy to fight this guy off, he'd just had his arms ripped off for God's sake, he should be bleeding out in agony! She threw up her hands as though to block his attack that was surely coming, her brain not having a moment to adjust into defensive stances or even think that these beings were not human and thus could not be beaten in a conventional way. Her fear was palpable, and held nearly a physical presence of its own and as she threw up her hands the fire from the night before erupted within her, like molten lava cascading through her veins, burning through her system at a much more manageable pain level than it had he night before.

The moment the man… no the _vampire_ leant towards her with his mouth slightly ajar as if to bite her fire shot from her very fingertips and encased the vampire like a blazing blanket. He let out a shrill cry, a sound of a man dying in agony, as his body caught fire. She found herself unable to look away as his crystalline flesh flashed and burned, unable to stop hearing the screams and the whirring sound of the flames catching through his body. She couldn't help but be mortified as he slowly turned to ash and his cries suddenly stopped and when his body finally collapsed into a pile of ash she sunk to the ground in agony over what she had done.

This was not the first time she’d felt this pain.

“Delphia, please.”

Demetri was crouched in front of her. She looked up into his crimson eyes, that had despite their color become quite the comfort to her as he continued to make her feel things she'd never felt, and realized what she had been trying to figure out for over a week now. What Demetri had been saying without saying it. He wasn’t human, he had been honest about that, but what was he?

He was a vampire.

Based on mythology and literally every story or movie ever, Vampire’s drink the blood of humans. And yet her instinct since the first day she met him had told her not to fear him. She listened to her instincts, they were rarely incorrect. Was this because she was incredibly stupid? Or was this because he had that effect on humans in order to kill them easier? Did he have to kill to feed off humans or was it like those books where they can drink, erase memories, and leave just like that? Perhaps it had something to do with his story book idea of 'true love' and, if it were real, this bond that they shared had forced her into so kind of complacency?

That couldn't be true, she was not the complacent sort. But if that wasn't it then what was the truth? Della wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I killed him.” She whispered so quietly, she almost didn’t even her herself say it.

Demetri nodded, “I killed the other.”

“He said vampire.” It was a statement, not a question, but she wanted him to answer it nonetheless as she stared directly into his eyes.

Demetri nodded once again, his face betraying no emotion. “He was not lying.”

Delphia wanted to have the time to dedicate specifically to thinking about this confession. To try and see the right and the wrong, to catalog everything he’d told her and verse it against her knowledge of vampirism per books and legends, and to ask what was true and what was folly. To ask what the other vampire meant when he said that he’d expected Demetri to tell her everything to solidify Delphia becoming a vampire.

But she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything aside from the fact that she had taken another’s life… again.

The only difference was that this time it wasn’t in her own control. This… this power, ability, whatever the fire was, had come from nowhere. But the fact that it had just blinked into existence and therefore she was unable to control it meant nothing in the reality of the situation. It wouldn't hold up as a solid argument to counter her blatant murder of another... being (because it certainly wasn't a human, by any means). She couldn’t plead in court that she burnt the guy to death using fire that shot out of her fingertips. She could imagine how that would go: ' _Sure, Judge, I’ll demonstrate, you don’t want this table right? If everyone could just take a few steps back, I can't really control this yet. By the way, did you hear the part where the victim was a vampire? Okay let's light this table on fire now.'_  It was ludicrous.

She knew she had been silent for quite some time. She turned her head and observed the dismembered body of the other vampire, it was dark and so she couldn’t see much aside from the limbs thrown carelessly in a heap.

It was clear that Demetri had done this before, as he pulled one of those old-school flip top lighters out of the pocket of his tailored dress pants, lit it, and tossed it onto the second corpse. Della watched as it went up in flames instantly, like dropping a match on gasoline.  

“We cannot be seen, Delphia.” Demetri stated quietly, his hand held out to help her to her feet.

She did not take it, opting to stand on her own instead. She couldn’t make out his facial features, but she guessed he was hurt by her disregard as he took two steps back and turned his body to face the dead vampires.

 

 

 

event that someone just happened to be walking into the park this time of night. Perhaps not an adult but teenagers could be rather unpredictable.

As she drove, Della attempted to decide what to do. Her mind was not solidifying on a singular idea, but now that it had sunk in that she had killed someone she was replaying a scene, one that she hadn't thought about routinely in years, her memories of New York City.

The first, and what she had hoped to be her last, time she’d killed a man.

She had been eleven then, Lyn had insisted they stay a few more weeks on the outskirts of NYC to see everything the city had to offer. There was a reason people abandoned their family and small town lives to move to the island, after all, and Lyn had wanted to see as much as she could. To be fair, Delphia wasn't exactly arguing. Her mother had gotten a job waitressing at a bar in Brooklyn and she adored the work, they weren't exactly bursting at the seams to get a move on to the next town. Plus, they had reasoned, it wouldn’t be too bad to put back a little more money, they could leave when the cold weather hit and head west for the winter.

During that time Lyn didn’t usually let Della go anywhere on her own at that age but they weren’t exactly parked in the best of places. One would describe the area as urban, the brick walls of the buildings around the park had more graffiti than red brick and the atmosphere had caused Della on many occasions to check to make sure her door was locked. People would gather around an only metal bin filled with trash lit on fire and drink cheap beer while they conversed in a most uncouth manner, it was where Delphia had learned all the expletives in her arsenal, not to mention learned more about anatomy and reproduction than she'd cared to at her age. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best of places they could have parked and Lyn had admitted that as she apologized for everything that had happened. Of course, Della knew that this place was one they should not have remained in and yet every morning when her mother came home she said nothing.

Della had been working on her school work, whatever it was she could no longer remember aside from the fact that she knew she was unable to focus on it. All day thus far her instincts were on the fritz, making her nervous. Something was horribly wrong, but she didn't know what it could be. She’d called her mom’s place if employment from the payphone across the street using a few dimes she'd found wedged under the couch cushions and confirmed that her mother was fine, just working, but Della couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was coming. When she got back to the trailer she locked the door and went back to working on her school work. After the sun had set a couple of hours later, she felt nervous once more and got up to check that she had indeed locked the door.

It was when she’d unlocked it to lock it back up again to ensure that it was locked to her standards that she’d realized regardless of whether it was locked or not, something horrible was going to happen. Even today she could never recall being so terrified in her life as she had that night, when she opened the door and outside stood a single large man. He looked like Hulk Hogan only far more terrifying because he was in person, it was the dark of night, and she was very much alone.

She couldn’t stop him from taking her, and not one person in the area who had heard her screams came to her aid. As an adult, Delphia had realized how sad it was that the people in the park hadn't bothered to help her, if even to call the police, it was the main reason that the adult version of Delphia trusted rarely. As a child, however, all she could think about in that moment was struggling hard enough to either be dropped or to get away somehow. She had bit the man on his shoulder, punched at his back. In the end, nothing she did stopped him, just spurred him on. He dropped her unceremoniously into the back of a white van and wrapped his hand around her throat, squeezing. She could feel herself losing her ability to breathe and a pressure building in her head. A few moments later she grew dizzy and fell unconscious with tears falling from her eyes, thinking she would die.

She had no idea how long she was out but when she came back to consciousness she was gagged with her arms tied together behind her back. She was laying in an awkward position on a cold concrete floor. It took her a moment to remember what had happened. As she chocked back sobs and tried to control her fear she glanced around the room she was in. It was some sort of office and room with a desk to the left side of the door in front of her and a cot to the right. The walls were made of cream painted cement and the only light came from some ancient looking lamp sitting on the desk. There was nothing in the room that would have said someone owned it aside from a pair of large steel toe boots tucked just under the cot. Soon after making her observations she lifted herself as much as she could and settled herself into a corner, running over every movie scenario she'd ever seen that involved kidnapping. She was busy planning probably the dumbest escape route ever she heard a voice outside of the door.

“I want at least two grand for this one, she’s young enough to be taught and forget that she had a life before, a worthy investment if you ask me. You have two days.” A gruff, angry voice practically growled into what she assumed was a phone. When he opened the door she noticed she was in some sort of warehouse, and the man who stepped in ignored her completely. She saw only a split second of the outside of that room but it was enough to noticed that her kidnapper had guards stationed at the entrance of the room and there were others walking around even farther, counting five that she could see and she figured that he had more than that.

Della couldn’t remember everything that happened in the next several hours. She recalled the man removing her gag to listen to her as she had been beaten, forced to soil herself when she begged to be allowed to use the bathroom. The only thing that didn't happen was anything of a sexually violent nature, but she had no doubts that if would have eventually came. However long it was that she sat on the cold floor in the corner of a large room all Della knew was that she was freezing, barefoot, sore from being on the floor, beaten, and with her arms tied behind her back for so long. After having seen a few movies she thought she would soon be killed.

She didn’t know what they really had planned. It wasn’t until the sun set that the man received another phone call. To this day she couldn’t shake what she had heard.

“Tell the Boss I have another for their more… _unique_ business. She’s young but not too young, she'll do nicely.”

Several hours later, after the sun had risen again the man received a phone call once more.

“Yes, two grand. Perfect, tonight at three.”

Della refused to cry. If she did it would be another excuse to hurt her and she had learnt quickly to avoid giving the man another excuse to do such a thing.

After two days, Della was relieved as a noise came from the other side of the warehouse and the man had stood, gagging her once more and leaving the room she was locked in with him. His constant presence had worn her down, he only ever left for phone calls, meals, and to use the restroom. Most of the time he spent at his desk or laughing as he committed unkind acts to her person. It was a relief every time he stepped out of the door and left her to herself. There was a faint noise at the door only a few minutes later, it sounded like someone was having trouble with the lock, which alerted Della to the fact that it wasn't her kidnapper, he used the key with practiced ease. She hoped it wasn't someone coming to take a few shots at her while their boss was out. Her nervous anticipation grew until the door swung open slowly. Della almost cried out as a familiar figure quietly opened the door to room and stepped in. Lyn pulled the sock gag out of her daughters mouth and began to untie the ropes that bound her, crying.

“I am so sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I found you.” Lyn kissed her head over and over, holding her tightly to her chest as tears flowed from her eyes before she caught herself and stood, grabbing Della's hand in hers and tugging in the direction of the door, “We have to go, baby, we’ve got to get out of here.”

Della followed closely behind Lyn, hand wrapped firmly in her mother's holding on for dear life as they walked quietly through the warehouse, ducking behind boxes when they heard footsteps coming their way. There was a door just to the right of them and Lyn began walking towards it and hastily attempted to cover Della’s eyes, but she saw what it was her mom was trying to hide from her. There was someone laying just inside of the door, his body seemed to have collapsed in an awkward position, in a pool of red liquid, with his right arm bent at the wrong angle. As they were passing him Della could just make out that there, in the man's throat, was the end of a knife, the blade no doubt sunk all the way through.

They made it out, just after passing the man and Della allowed the feeling of relief to flood her all too soon. She was ripped backwards and tossed back into the building before she had inhaled the fresh air three times. It took her a minute to correct herself, but when she could stand again despite the pains shooting through her body saw the man who had kidnapped her holding her mother at gunpoint.

 “She’s my daughter, please let her go! Take me, please, take me instead!" Lyn begged, she was on her knees with a look of absolute resolve, tears in her eyes, that chilled Della to the core.

Time slowed for her as Della looked around her at all sides, trying to find a weapon or anything to make this guy drop his gun. She didn’t have strength; she didn’t know how to fight. She was barely eleven years old. But if she didn’t do something her mom was going to _die_.

 “At this point that’s not your decision, you will die, and she will go to my employers.”

Della’s eyes passed over the man with the knife in his back. She got up as quietly as she could and walked over to the body, noticing that the knife was one of theirs from their RV’s kitchen. Gulping, Della pulled it from the man, having to wiggle it a bit to get it to dislodge from him, turning her head as blood poured from the wound and made a disgusting noise that she would not likely forget. She tried not to gag and stood slowly, thankful for the moment that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Please, just let me have my daughter or let her go. She's so young, she doesn't deserve this!” Lyn was crying, pleading.

Della quietly made her way over to the man who clearly wasn’t paying attention to her.

“My employers will take care of her, I assure you.” The man stated simply, pulling back the top of the gun and effectively placing a bullet in the chamber, not that Della understood what he had done at the time with his motion, that knowledge came years later.

Della couldn’t fight, she knew that would be her weakness here. Adrenaline rushed through her system as she recalled information she had learned when she had taken a health course less than a year ago. She crept up behind the man, her mother not even noticing her as she used his body to shield her movements, thinking that if her mom saw her moving towards the man with a knife she would say something to alert him. When she got close enough Della held her arm back as far as she could go and swung the knife with as much force as her body could muster.

It sunk just beneath the man’s extended arm, not exactly where Della was aiming, she wanted to slam it into his kidney area but she hadn't looked while she was swinging the knife. Lyn quickly jumped out of the way and the man dropped the gun. Della scrambled to grab the gun from where it fell on the ground when she looked over at the man who had kidnapped her, he was struggling to pull himself up to stand again.

She aimed the gun at center mass, as she’d seen in a movie once, pulled the trigger and it shock of it threw her backwards.

When the cops came, she was told she’d done it in self-defense, and that it was all going to be alright. They’d asked her if she stabbed the guy inside the door and she had covered for her mother, because Lyn had said that the guy was dead when she had arrived so Della figured she needed to keep her mom out of trouble.

She was ‘absolved of guilt.’

Della sighed, bringing herself back into the present as she parked the Mustang in the hotel parking garage. Once she’d made it into her hotel room her decision was clear. Shedding a few tears as she went, Della threw the minimal amounts of clothing she had with her back into her suitcase.

She would be gone before Demetri returned, and although she was terrified she took strange comfort in the idea that he would find her again.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**True** **Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Eighteen**

_"You are not welcome on these lands… for now. Go to your mate, Demetri Volturi.”_

Marie sat on her rocking chair, crimson eyes staring blankly into the night. For all the details her enhanced sight offered to her, the dust particles in the air and the dew on every blade of grass, Marie found she could not focus on what lay before her. That wasn't to say that the movements didn't register. She could hear the drops of dew as some slowly fell from the longer blades of grass to the dirt below them, registered the scent of the small animal just inside the tree line. It was as if her body was numbed to her senses, causing the color and lustier to bleed from the world around her while her mind was miles away, questioning her decisions, reminding herself of her ancestral warnings and the gifts that have been afforded to her as she'd glimpsed the future.

Having been informed prior to deciding anything, Marie believed she'd made the right choice to follow the ancestor's guidance. The ancestors spanned several centuries in age and power, their omnipotence an indicator that Marie should accept and follow their guidance even when it seemed impossible to do so. They had a plan, and only time would bring their intricate workings to fruition, Marie had done her part for now.

 As she felt Amos' presence settle into the chair next to her, Marie's sensory focus shifted to accommodate the new presence. They had moved the porch set around from the other side of the house, to the east side (much to Amos' displeasure, since he enjoyed watching the sun set over the horizon), where there wasn’t a venom burn settled into the beautiful antique stained wood planks and the railings was not cracked from a vampire row. Amos wrapped her hand in his, carefully lacing their fingers together; it was his way of silently showing his support.  

"Come back to me," she heard Amos' deep whisper from his position.

His baritone invaded her senses, first the brightness of the moon invaded her sight with its celestial glow illuminating the earth.  Then her sense of smell heightened, the scents that she had not fully acknowledge before belonged to an array of squirrels, possums, and even a deer or two. The night was particularly void of all human influence that was usually in the area. She could hear no cars driving by on the nearest roads, just the ever present and comforting sounds of nature that began to surround them with their calming ambience.

Marie squeezed their intertwined hands in a subtle show of gratitude, deciding to break the silence by addressing the proverbial elephant in the room. “It will have happened by now," she spoke softly. Amos did not move, nor acknowledge she had spoken. Marie moved her head to fractionally to the left to view him better. “It had to be done,” she reminded him quietly.

Her mate nodded. "I know, my love."

They both hated that Marie had allowed Beau and Jack to walk willingly into their . Amos had protested the spirits guidance for months, for the first time he had trouble simply trusting his faith in ethereal entities he could not see. Unfortunately, the ancestors commanded Marie leave fate to do what was intended. Instead of putting his faith in the spirits, Amos aimed every feeling or trust, faith, and love at Marie and followed her, even if it were to the execution fire.

In had been over a year ago that Marie had gotten over the eventual deaths of her young coven members. The ancestors had given her a vision one night in her cellar, the kind she hadn't been looking for, hadn't asked, but had been given. A gift from the ancestors was not something to be ignored. She had seen what would come if she didn't play her part and assist. She knew the dates, the events, and the ancestors had even been so _generous_ to share the strategies. She had been given the vision of everything that could go wrong and would, if she didn't interfere, if she didn't change two events right at the very start. Marie had felt sick; it was a feeling she likened to being a newborn waking for the first time but worse. Her senses had overloaded, causing her to lose her centuries of careful control and fall into a heavy blood lust, even Amos' scent could not break through her panic for days to calm her. It had taken Marie weeks to slow down, feel the earth and the breeze and the presence of her mate.

One–she couldn't allow Delphia Payne to leave New Orleans without awakening her power as a human.

Two–Beau and Jack could not be allowed to live.

The future depended on Delphia Payne, and if the twins lived she would have ended up dead a few weeks later. Beau and Jack would not have given up hunting her, despite Demetri. In a fit of sheer dumb luck Beau would have been able to sever Delphia's neck from her head in Texas, just days before she would be traveling to Italy with Demetri. Delphia's death would spur a chain of events that Marie didn't want to let her mind rove for too long; it could not be allowed to happen.

The vision of a future where Delphia Payne was one of them, however, _that_ was a world Marie wanted to live in. Less than five years they had left to wait.  But the cost the ancestors asked her to pay was enormous, her and Amos’ lives if it took that.  Marie had agreed to pay it, had chosen to do as the ancestors had requested, but even now knowing the cost she would not have changed her decision.

The wind kicked up, sending a scent that they had recently become familiar with; Demetri was coming.

Marie and Amos flitted into their lawn and stood side by side, hands still wrapped together in solidarity waiting for what one of the Volturi's most prized members would do. Marie knew that he would leave without her harming him, but not before he made his stand. Demetri was not yet to be trusted, not with the future. He wasn't ready; he was missing events that would turn his opinions and mold him into who he would become.

Only a couple agonizingly tense seconds later, Demetri was standing just feet before them, dropping a large black garbage bag at their feet. His crimson eyes were ablaze with the absolute fury of someone who had nearly lost everything, and knew just who to blame.

“The ashes of your two young coven members," Demetri's entire posture screamed feral, he was in his most dangerous state, coiled tightly and ready to strike like a viper, _this_ was Demetri Volturi, "They attacked my mate, a slight I could not forgive or allow” he growled, venom that had pooled in his mouth spilling over, burning through the jacket of his finely tailored outfit in his rage, “I warned you Laveau.”

Marie had to choose her words carefully, every syllable would have to be spoken in a certain way to keep Demetri from springing. One wrong move, one wrong word, and they would both be dead, unless of course the ancestors intervened but that was never a guarantee, “I apologize, we were not aware they would be so foolish. We had a row this morning, I assumed they ran off to cool off while you were still here.” Marie stated calmly, schooling her features into a subtle resigned expression, applying only a minuscule amount of extra pressure to Amos' hands in order to warn him that he needed to watch himself and his body language.

Still coiled and ready to strike Demetri's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Marie supposed he already had it in his mind that she had something to do with Delphia's power waking in the middle of the night and wouldn't allow Marie to talk herself out of his ire. After several moments Demetri's low voice interrupted the silence with a false calm tone, “And I am to assume you had _nothing_ to do with the way my mate woke during the night as well?”

Marie could play innocent well enough. The Volturi had no real evidence of her being in his rooms the night before, but he knew dangerously enough to implement her to Aro or justify his killing her to Aro at least. It was no secret to Marie that Demetri had taken it upon himself to research her brand of ancestral magic when she had left the Volturi. He knew as much as an outsider could, and through him so did Aro. “How did your mate awake?” She asked innocently, attempting to convey just a slight amount of worry into her facial structure.

Marie knew only a second later that it was the wrong question to ask.

Demetri sprung, growling deeply as he just about wrapped a hand around Marie's throat before she registered and stepped aside. The Volturi didn't have time to correct his movement to continue his move against Marie, so when he swung around he had given Amos just enough time to step between his mate and Demetri, his own feral growl reverberating through him. Regardless of his and Marie's involvement in the events leading up to tonight, Amos could not stand there and allow another vampire to attack his mate. Just as Amos narrows his eyes, Demetri stopped moving. He was being held completely still, forcibly, by something he couldn't see but Marie knew.

Unable to struggle and feeling powerless, Demetri's eyes flew from Marie to Amos, then in a biting voice that demanded an answer he questioned, “What is this sorcery?”

Marie went statuesque; _shocked_ that the ancestors had decided to step in while she had been prepared to die tonight. Amos was unable to _maintain_ control over a body- his longest attempt only lasted five seconds. In the past it had been enough for one of the twins to counter attack whoever was threatening them, against a Volturi guard the gift would not be enough on its own. “It is Amos’ gift, Volturi, paired with the ancestors inhibiting your movements,” she told him before Amos could speak.  

The wind kicked up and dropped several degrees in mere seconds, an unseen presence fell over the grounds. Marie had no time to marvel in the presence of her ancestors as words bubbled inside of her, coaxing their way out of her in a way that did not feel natural. She knew she must allow the ancestors their voice, and so she allowed them to use hers, letting go of the control she held over herself for them to use her as a conduit. All the while, the threatening presence almost electrifying the air. An ancestor took over, Marie's voice dropping a few octaves as the spirit spoke through her; "You are not welcome on these lands… for now. Go to your mate, Demetri Volturi.”

Demetri closed his eyes and growled, the ancestor's magic forcing his movements towards the edge of the property. The spirit had meant what it said, Demetri would not be allowed on their lands, at least until he had undergone his future change.

“This is far from over, Laveau.” Demetri called back threateningly as he moved towards the hotel he had been sharing with Delphia.

“It has only begun, Volturi” Marie whispered, leaning against her mate for comfort and in relief of surviving one more event.

~.~.~.~

It was inevitable. Delphia had been itching to run from that first encounter in the alleyway, her first night in New Orleans. He had of course known she would eventually do so, but had hoped she would have at least been intrigued by the answers to her questions enough to have stayed. Demetri released a long unnecessary breath in frustration as he threw his small bag of clothing into the passenger seat of his rented BMW.

Delphia was heading west, and Demetri was worried she would naïvely stop in Texas. If he didn't catch up to her before she entered Maria's territory, then every newborn Maria had in her arsenal would catch his scent in her vehicle. The older vampires would hesitate to kill Delphia, but the newborns would be out of control at the mere sent of an unfamiliar vampire. That was before considering Maria herself; the ancient was far worse than Marie would ever be. In fact, the only reason Maria was still alive was because Aro saw Maria's _potential_ , and the vampire had sworn allegiance to the Volturi and respect for the laws. And no laws were broken, oh they were _bent_ , but not _broken._ It was how Maria and many of the other covens in the late 1800s had gotten away with the Southern Vampire Wars.

No, Marie Laveau was kitten compared to Maria, Demetri could handle Marie alone but for Maria he would need at least one or two other Volturi to ward off any potential attack or any newborns she may have among her ranks. His best bet was to stop Della before she entered Galveston.

Demetri pushed his vehicle to the limit, aggravated but careful to listen for police as he weaved in and out of traffic. It wouldn’t take long for him to close the gap between them.  He had known the moment she'd left the hotel. He'd wanted to destroy Marie and her mate but a combination of whatever Amos' gift was and the lands own unseen residents stopped his movements. Despite being pushed to the edge of the property Demetri had no doubt he would have found a way to slaughter the remaining members of the New Orleans coven. He considered it, but it was Della's going west instead of any other direction that had forced him to decide he needed to chase after her. Unfortunately to cancel his room and acquire a new rental vehicle had pushed him two hours behind her, much longer than he had hoped for, as it was already past nine at night.

Sleep was such a wasteful use of time.

After the week he'd spend in New Orleans Demetri came to the conclusion that Marie was not to be trusted, and began considering whether or not he should report her actions. The problem was she hadn't done anything illegal and therefore grounds for punishment were abstract at best. Aro would not go for his research and his assumptions to destroy such a gifted vampire. Aro deciding to end Marie's second life was improbable, especially considering all he had evidence for what that Marie had made him uncomfortable and distrustful of her.

And now that Delphia had manifested a gift Demetri was forced to inform Aro. He almost cursed it but retracted the thought as soon as it entered his mind. He could not be disloyal to Aro, his master would expect to know of another gifted human. Though Demetri wished to keep Delphia human long enough for her to come to terms with what her life would become. He'd stolen her choice, and if he called Aro to inform him of her power, then Aro would surely demand that Della be brought to Volterra right away and be changed. A power such as Delphia's needed to be under control and quickly, or risk exposing herself whilst emotionally charged.

And damn, did Delphia have a power. He wondered how it would manifest as a vampire? Their venom was flammable, highly so. A sharp stab of panic racked through his body. If Delphia were to be attacked and lost a limb, then used her fire to fight the threat would she kill herself?

Suddenly her burning fever made complete sense. She'd woken in a sweat, with what she dubbed as 'liquid fire' coursing through her veins. He wondered if her body had been changed on a biological level, as her flesh did not burn when it encountered her fire, but knew he lacked the experience with such sciences to answer that question. Until recently the human body did not interest him much.

Briefly, Demetri considered tracking Carlisle Cullen and having him look over Delphia. He would be more able to answer some of these questions.

Demetri hadn't stopped tracking Della, and he practically groaned when he felt her shift, she was moving more south west now, towards Galveston. Galveston, the epicenter of Maria's territory. He would not be as welcome here as he had been in Marie's territory, he knew this for fact, and with as many newborns as Maria typically had in her arsenal, Delphia would be in _immediate_ danger.

He was only an hour behind her at this point.

~.~.~.~

He'd finally caught up with Della at a truck stop just east of Galveston. She had pulled in for gas and he pulled in next to her hoping that any vampires were far enough away not to pick up his scent. He needed to convince Delphia to stop and let him stay with her. If he left her without his protection, or at least in a room around other humans, she would be in danger. The sun was just rising above the horizon so he wore a sweatshirt he'd bought for such occasions and covered his head as he fueled his vehicle on the opposite side of hers.

He caught her eyes with his and felt calm seep through him, soothing him from his earlier anger and frustrations with only her gaze. He wondered how long it would be before she trusted him completely, how long before she would forgive him, how long before her beautiful eyes became striking crimson. His thoughts were interrupted when she finished pumping her gas and walked over to him, leaning her left hip against his BMW rental as she gazed at him.

"Found you." He said simply, breaking their silence.

"Indeed," she looked up at him, face passive. "You look stupid in a hoodie," was what she said, but she looked troubled. He suspected that developing a gift, finding out you were a millennia old vampire's soul mate, and that vampires exist would be rather exhausting.

"I would appreciate if you gave me a chance to explain everything," He stated softly, aware of her fragility and ignoring her insult as he felt the same way about the wretched article of modern clothing. He hung up the gas pump and leant his right hip against the vehicle as he mirrored her pose, looking her in the eyes as the sun steadily crept higher. He was running out of time.

She nodded, eyes leaving his face to look at her feet, as if she wanted to make a decision without gazing at him. He supposed it was the vampire allure, it often compelled humans to do things they would not, "I want to know _everything_ , this time. No holds barred. No bullshit. All of it."

He grunted in agreement, by knowing about vampires her fate had already been rendered absolute, he didn't have a reason not to disclose everything at this point, "I will do so. I apologize that you've had to encounter some of the worst of my kind before you could learn the truth. I did not wish to tell you until you grasped a further understanding of our bond and how we are connected."

Della snorted, ignoring his repentant tone, "Well, dude, by not being completely honest with me about your sort, you were hindering yourself. I value honesty- this was a pretty big secret to keep from your supposed 'mate.'"

Demetri nodded his head once in understanding. "I admit I may have made a mistake," he stated calmly. It was true; he hadn't known how to handle the situation. He'd never met a vampire who'd courted their human mate before, other than the Cullen brat anyways, and he'd not known the rules. Being Volturi he knew the risks of speaking the truth–it was illegal. Period. But were the laws more flexible with mates? Would Aro have considered allowing Delphia to know right away? He had not bothered to ask. Surely Aro would have had stipulations- bringing Della back to Volterra would indeed be one.

It did not matter, what was done was done and there would be no changing it. Demetri had made his mistakes and he would now suffer the consequences.

"For today, can I ask you to trust me enough to follow me to a motel so that you may rest?"

Della sighed, but agreed after a few moments of hesitation. He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind, what feelings her human consciousness had plagued her with in the past several hours. Demetri wanted to believe she had thought of him as her mind placed the pieces of this thinly veiled puzzle together under the description of 'Vampire.' He knew this was an arrogant wish, Delphia was a kind-hearted human and he held little doubt that her mind was plagued with the deaths of Beau and Jack.

Demetri remained outside of his rental long enough for Delphia to enter hers.  She allowed him to lead her as he drove down the street to find the nearest hotel, holding a standard higher than Delphia's had been when she chose that first establishment in New Orleans. When he spotted one that most certainly was not up to his tastes but would do for the night, at least, he pulled into the parking lot. The sun was just above the horizon now, Demetri pulled the hood tighter and kept his head out of the sun's rays, snagging Della's bag from her shoulder and draping it over his, using the guise of holding the strap to his sweatshirt to cover his hand from the sun.

Delphia seemed to notice what he was doing and just as he was about to place his exposed hand into the sweatshirt pocket she grabbed hold of it, entwining her fingers into his and pressing the back of his hand into her hip to hide it. Demetri nearly paused at the contact, wanting to believe it was a bit closer to earning her trust back and even possibly her forgiveness, but unable to, as he basked in the warmth of her hand. He could feel her blood flowing through her veins, her body temperature such a stark contrast to his own.

She dropped his hand when they were inside the hotel and Demetri used his now free hand to push the hood off his head. She stood by his side as he dealt with the desk clerk and purchased the room, one King suite. Demetri carried Della's bags inside the pristine room and placed them on the floor near the bathroom. No words had been said to each other since the gas station but the silence between them wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

When he considered the reflection of Delphia in the mirror he could see her pulling apart the bed.  He refrained from chuckling as she unceremoniously dumped three of the five pillows onto the floor and removed the blankets. She flashed him a small smile, not bothering to mask her troubled expression, as she passed him with a small pile of clothes in her hand and shut the bathroom door with a soft click.

Demetri sat on the couch their room held and listening to the rustling of her changing of clothes before she reappeared. She came back out and climbed into bed without looking at him. Things were far from settled between them now but it wouldn't deter him from trying to fix it.

"Sleep well," he spoke quietly, hoping for a response, "We'll speak in the morning, but for now have no worry."

He was greeted with silence. He watched the wall, feeling the sting of a mate's rejection. But just before her breathing evened out, Delphia whispered, "Goodnight Dem."

Demetri, thinking as though standing over Delphia as she slept may be considered awkward, flounced over to the chair hidden in the corner of the room, illuminated by the shimmering glow of the moon, and silently sat, draping right leg over his left and folding his hands in his lap. He no longer was forced to portray a casual human demeanor by leaning against something, and therefore he sat straight backed and unmoving as he methodically listened to Delphia's vitals. He allowed the concern over his mate's condition and what it meant for her as he observed.

They would have to speak in the morning of the knowledge she had acquired of his kind. He worried deeply of her reaction, for now she too much to be allowed to live out a human life. Vampire law was absolute. He dreaded the idea of having to force her, the more he thought of it, the more anxious he felt. Delphia had once choice, death or vampirism. If she chose death over vampirism he would have to make his own decision; honor her wish, or take that from her as well.

He hoped that it wouldn't come down to that, he prayed to his gods that she would choose vampirism. Weeks ago, Demetri would have scoffed at the mere idea of a human deciding to die over becoming one of them. Of course, he had seen many go that route out of pride or religious beliefs. He had in the past, and still to this day, viewed his second life as a gift. The more he knew of Delphia, the more he understood that she quite possibly would feel exactly opposite as he did.

The next morning's conversation was necessary, but he dreaded it if it meant losing her favor and trust.

Demetri perished his thoughts on the matter of their inevitable conversation for now, he had other things to consider. The first and foremost obligation he had was to the Volturi. Now that Delphia had, in some unclear manner, awakened a gift as a human Aro would be thrilled. He would see with a single touch that Della had, as a human, killed a vampire with her power _without trying to._ This was no easily accomplished feat; Demetri could almost feel Aro's delight as if the King were standing right beside him as he was lost in thought. As a collector of powerfully gifted vampires he would view Delphia's gift as way to further strengthen the Volturi guard, especially once he learns Marie's words; 'She will give the infamous witch twins a run for their money.'

And that would be yet another problem. Demetri knew from years of experience and time spent among said witch twins that Jane and Alec did not receive any perceived threat to their station well. They had gone so far in the past to go directly against Aro's orders and have the threat neutralized. The punishments for such behavior were severe but lasted only days in comparison to the swift death any other guard member would be given. Thus, the stakes were high in bringing Delphia back to Volterra and showcasing her gift to the guard before it was developed, or even at all. With Alec's sensory deprivation no vampire, or human for that matter, could escape or even fight the twins off.

Demetri knew he had an obligation to inform Aro of Delphia's gift, and if he failed to do so the consequences could be dire. However, the moment Demetri regaled his master with the details of his mate's ability the king would demand she be brought to him at once. Demetri knew this would end in her immediate turning, and he wasn't sure that was what was best for Della at this point.

That line of thought brought Demetri to examine his second, and most important, obligation: to Delphia. While she was still human she was majorly venerable, this was absolute and had never left his consciousness. Nevertheless, it was equally true that she needed time to develop her ability as a human, or she could very well be an unruly newborn and end up having to be killed in order preserve the secrecy of their existence.

He could not, and would not, allow for that to happen. Delphia had too much love for this world and the characters in it for her to be lost from it. She was light, and color, and whatever good there may have been in _humanity_ (most of which he knew was not good, but vile) bundled into a small package of demanding, volatile, and yet darling. She deserved a life of laughter, and happiness. She deserved to never worry, to feel the wind as it blew her hair around her face while she drove across her own country and several more.

That was just it. Delphia deserved _more_ , and could he even give that to her? He originally had thought so. The simple idea of immortality should have been enough for her, in his opinion. But Delphia didn't seem to be keen on the idea of it, from their first conversation in that motel in New Orleans Delphia had denied that immortality would be on her list of supernatural occurrences she'd wish for herself. But without it she would die, permanently.

 An eternity without his mate would drain the color and will from his immortal life. He would no longer wish to exist and he knew that his talent was not to be wasted in the eye of the Volturi. Aro would declare as he had with Marcus, and Demetri would be forced to remain dead inside for the use of the Volturi.

It was a life he had watched Marcus survive against his will for millennia. Demetri would not live in a world that no longer had Delphia Payne in it. He couldn't bare the idea, couldn't understand how Marcus was even surviving without Didyme in this world.

Della stirred in her sleep and Demetri's thought process was cast aside while his eyes watched her turn. Her face was now visible in the pale moonlight illuminating from the open curtain of the room.

Regardless of how tomorrows conversation would go, he had to steer Delphia out of Maria's territory. They were too close as it was and Demetri was nervous of their proximity to the ancient. Della was in great danger here and Demetri was fearful that any newborn passing by would catch his scent and Maria would come with an army to swarm him. If she did, there was a distinct possibility that Demetri and Delphia both would perish.

_'No,'_ Demetri thought as he stared at his mate's face, for even as a human Delphia had an almost Aphrodite-like beauty to him, his fear climbing with each passing thought of his mate's death had set him on edge and he was aching for a drink, _"I will not allow her death, at all costs._ _"_


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**True Mate Saga Book One:** Demetri

**Chapter Nineteen**

The room was silent as Della began to cross the threshold of the subconscious. The more aware she became the eerier the room felt. Her ears rang, the constant tone like the white noise of an old-school television grating on her nerves until she moved her leg back and forth under the cover just for a moment of distracting ambience to break it, though just as she stopped moving the ringing came back with a vengeance.

Della had never liked the quiet, well, not since New York anyways. From the time she was small until now it seemed there had always been someone there, banging around, making noise and watching as Della stumbled through her life; someone there to cheerlead from the sidelines. Someone who was making food in the kitchen or watching the television, Della listening faintly from wherever she was in the RV. First it had been her mother, then Gramps, and even in the times she'd been in school and college she'd surrounded herself with people. If even only for a few weeks at a time before she moved on. She avoided the silence as though it were a plague, for in it lay a certain coldness, accentuating the loneliness and allowing the crippling fear that only came from true trauma to return.

Problem was, she knew she wasn't alone in the room. She could feel him there, a tingling sense pricking at the back of her mind. Demetri was somewhere, watching, unsleeping, which only made what her conscious mind didn't want to acknowledge all that more fearful. Given what she knew about him, hHe would knoew she was awake. He'd probably have known before she'd have registered her own wakefulness. The fact that he was there but not aiding in removing the silence frightened her(add something here). Flashes of the other night and the vampire who had charged toward her caused. her heart to begian to beat faster, one paralyzing thought entering her mind.

Demetri was one of those, a vampire. He was everything she fought against, stood against. He was the kind of reason she went into that alley where they had met. Suddenly his heroism and good timing seemed creepy only adding to her terror. How long had he been watching her? How long had he been stalker her viewing her without her awareness? How intimately did he really know her? His absolute silence only increased everything that was wrong about the situation? Would he dare do to her what the man from her childhood had done? Take her in the middle of night and force her to do things she was simply not strong enough to stop? The possibility chilled her to her core.

She knew she had little choice but to face him, and in all reality, she wanted to. Facing Demetri and learning the truth was something she'd desired since the day he'd found her in New Orleans and had saved her from the precarious situation she'd placed herself in while attempting to be noble. The truth was that he could have had his way with her then, but hadn't However, tThe _real_ issue was the certain reality that knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt the absolute truth would be irrevocably life changing, in ways she couldn't understand. The fear of what the truth would mean squirmed inside of her giving her strength against her otherwise debilitating fear.

HoweverUnquestioningly, by feigning sleep she was acting like a coward. She was many things, but a coward wasn't one.

So instead of letting herself wallow she took a deep breath, the noise banishing the ringing of her ears for a moment, and exhaled. Della turned from where she lay on her side to her back, leaning up so she could drag herself with her elbows to a sitting position. Her eyes immediately found Demetri's in the shadowed corner of the room. The light had faded to a dull glow outside, the faint light that came through an opening in the curtains and a brief glance at the glowing red numbers on the bedside clock told her it was nearing dusk.

"Good evening," Demetri's accented rumble pierced the silence like thunder over a valley, causing Della to startle mid 'I just woke up' stretch. His smile practically illuminated his dark corner when she jumped, "I apologize."

She opened her mouth to cast a scathing retort to his lie, he didn't mean to apologize, but was interrupted by her traitorous body as she began to yawn again. By the time she was done her twinge of anger had dissipated to annoyance and she'd thought better of what she was ready to say. Instead, she opted for a neutral statement.

"Good evening Dem, do anything more exciting than sit in that corner and stare into nothing all day?" It may have been passive aggressive, but it was far less than what she had been ready to say. She turned her body to stretch her back a bit before flopping back down and bunching the pillow up to give her head a bit more elevation so she could see him.

He smiled, though it didn't seem to reach his eyes as he responded, "I gained exceptional thrill from inspecting dust particles that float through the room."

"Sounds absolutely exhilarating, Demetri, I don't know how you contained your child-like excitement."

To this, Demetri released a small chucklelaugh. "With restraint born of millennia of practice, tesoro, I assure you."

She had succeeded in lightening his mood, yet his answer had darkened hers. Attempting to remedy the situation with humor and sarcasm would solve nothing but calming her own nerves, if that were even possible at this point. The truth that he had yet to speak was gnawing on her insides and she was doing her best to keep it contained. He seemed to realize she wasn't truly in the mood for verbal sparring, and his playful demeanor vanished just as quickly as it had come. Part of her felt a terrible, creating a sinking sensation in her chest, as she watched his features shift, knowing she had been the cause. The remainder of her greeted his expression with indignation—he had been the one to deceive her, after all.

The silence once again descended over the room, causing the feeling in Della's chest to amplify along with the white noise in her ears. Instead of continuing like this, Delphia thought that she should probably address the elephant in the room before it sat on them both, if only to chase away the oppressing hush.

"We need to talk," she said, nearly cringing at her own cliché, recalling that nothing good ever came of that phrase.

He nodded in agreement, "I would like for you to order sustenance from one of those disgusting places that deliver, if you would, so that you may eat before we speak."

"I can do that," she agreed, "can I use your phone? Mines kind of…"

"Melted?" He offered, the makings of a smile ghosting across his sharp features as if he were recalling the memory fondly before the expression was gone again. He slid his pale hand into designer jacket pocket and offeredextended his hand towards her his sleek black bit of expensive tech present.

She met his eyes unsure of how to respond to his reaction choosing to face that another day and stick with fact no matter how those facts tore at her insides, "Yeah, melted. Mind handing me that advertisement thing on the table –" he picked up the tented paper and lifted it to show it too her in silent question, "… yes, that. Thanks."

Della ran through the list of places that would deliver to the motel and picked one. Pizza was a good go to for comfort when you're about to have a life-changing conversation that obliterated everything you thought you knew about your world, right? She dialed the number and on the third ring a woman with a nasally voice answered the phone. She gave her information and her order, the woman responding at in the end she was givenwith a time and the total.

She hung up the phone and handed it back to Demetri, "Thanks." There was no need to tell him the delivery's ETA- she knew suspected he'd heard everything, if fiction was anything to go by. All bets were off with Demetri, as of now she knew very little of the difference between truth and fiction. .

Instead of letting the room lapse into that despairing quiet again, she reached for the remote and punched the on button. Turning the volume down quite a bit when she saw Demetri flinch. She noted the reaction, suspecting she was right that he could hear exceptionally well. Instead of commenting she began to flip through the channels until she settled on a show about Vikings.

The mood between them was tense; he seemed to be responding to the atmosphere by staring at the wall behind her. She watched him out of the corner of her vision and observed that he wasn't moving. Not a twitch, not a single breath, like a marble statue. It was as if all those little human quirks had been feigned since the day she met him. _Well_ , she reminded herself, _that is the truth_.

After thirty minutes of their continued farce, Delphia pretending to watch TV and Demetri feigning interest in the wall, a knock sounded on the door and Della made as though she would get up and answer it. Demetri was there, his seat at the opposite end of the wall abandoned, before she could complete the action, already opening the door with cash in hand as though he'd been standing at the door waiting eagerly for the knock of the delivery guy he'd already seen pull up.

Though she was certain it was more that he'd heard him pull up.

Demetri dropped the pizza box on the table, resuming his previous position in the corner chair, and Della pushed herself out of the bed grudgingly bringing herself to sit at the other side of the table from him closer to the door. Even though she suspected he could beat her to the door before she began to flee, its proximity was irrationally reassuring for what lay ahead. so she could join him thereIn truth, . sShe would have gladly preferred to have eaten the pizza in bed, but didn't feel up to arguing with an ancient being over table manners. She pulled a piece from the box, stomach growling like a man who'd been stuck in the desert for three days with no food. The first piece of pizza was devoured in moments.

Demetri's eyes glinted with repressed humor as she looked lovingly at the next piece in her hand. Admittedly, the pizza did make her feel a bit better, a small part of her anger subsiding as she consumed it. She did her best not to look at Demetri, but when she did she noted that he was doing his best not to breathe at all, and filed it away to ask about during her interrogation.

"You've got to stop buying things for me." She mentioned, dropping the crust of the second piece of pizza and grabbing for another, despite how unnecessary the extra fat was for her. Fuck nutrition- pizza is life.

"That, diletta, is unlikely."

She stopped herself from snorting as she polished off the last of her third slice and dropped the crust back into the box, wiping her hand on one of the provided cheaply made brown napkins. She had been hungry, though she hadn't noticed until the pizza was in front of her. She contemplated a forth piece and decided against it as the food she'd already consumed settled. Her foul mood began to dissipate; and while she was still a plethora of confused, angry, and annoyed, Della thought she could now have this conversation in a more rational state of mind.

Demetri was scrutinizing her from his seat and she began to fidget under his gaze. He hadn't said anything for a few minutes and she'd yet to breech the subject. She leaned back in her chair and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror by the door of the room. Sighing she got to her feet and shuffled over to her bag to grab a brush and ruffled around inside for the first hair tie she could find, giving her something to do while she approached the topic they needed to address.

"So," she began as she ran the brush through her orange locks, "why don't you start and I'll parade with questions when I need to?"

As she threw her hair up in the tie he began to speak, "You recall that one of the gentlemen," she snorted at the word gentlemen but he ignored it in favor of continuing, "from the other night spoke the word vampire."

She affirmed this by nodding and grabbed one of the blankets she'd tossed on the floor that morning and wrapped herself in it before sitting on the chair across from Demetri, pulling her knees to her chest and settling in for their conversation/mock confessional.

"Let us review what you already know of my kind. I've explained my gift, and that there are others of my kind that have their own gifts as well as few who have different variations of the same gift. You know that my kind have a different genetic makeup, and this effects our flesh making it cold, hardened, and glistening in direct sunlight. I've made mention of the Volturi, who you in your own words described as a police force. You learned of True Mates- though you believe they do not exist, and have heard me say I have older than a millennium."

She nodded the smallest fraction appreciative of how succinctly he put the pieces together giving her mind the slightly increased room to take on what she knew was bound to be altering.

He didn't miss a beat as he continued on, "The history of our kind is not written. In truth, even the elders of our kind do not know how the first of us came to be or who they were, though most of our scholars tend to believe the original vampire was pre-ancient Mesopotamia. Perhaps even Pangea time frame. We have no way of knowing unless a vampire of that age were to come to Volterra and allow Aro, one of the kings of our people, to see with his gift the memories of their million lifetimes. As it stands, we know of no such vampire so ancient."

Her eyes didn't leave him as he spoke, though when he paused to look up as if waiting for her to ask any questions she might have she bobbed her head for him to continue. She wasn't drifting; she'd waited weeks for answers and was determined to receive them.

"Vampirism is not like the legends humans learn as young children, but there are similarities. The truth is always nestled somewhere within the lies. We do avoid direct sunlight, not because it burns but because our flesh is different from yours and light reflects off it casting a shimmering glitter, as you know. I have not met a vampire in my millennium of life that can bend their shape into that of a bat. Nevertheless, I believe it would be possible for one of such a gift to someday exist. A wooden, or even silver, stake would not penetrate our flesh. Holy water does nothing, I have met many vampires of faith that carry rosaries, and garlic does not repel us based on the legendary reasoning. Though the smell of human food," he glanced down at the pizza box, "is utterly revolting and that alone would send us off, unless of course there was the underlying and tantalizing scent of blood to overpower the human nutriment."

After a brief pause she spoke., "Want me to take the rest of the pizza to the dumpster and leave the door open to air it out in here?" Della asked, noting how uncomfortable he seemed when he'd discussed the smell of human food.

"If you don't mind, I would dispose of it."

She grabbed the box, "I need a second to walk and take a breather anyways"

He nodded in understanding, "I would like to come with you, for security."

"Your security?" She asked, her eyebrow quirking giving her face a challenging expression. She wouldn't run to the nearest occupied room screaming 'vampire.' He had to know that.

"Yours," he retorted, opening the door for her and holding it so she may exit ahead of him.

Della slipped on her flip flops that she'd discarded at the door that morning and exited the room. The cool night air hit her like a freight train and she wished she'd have grabbed a light jacket before stepping outside. It shouldn't be so cold, this was Texas! "So why the security detail?" she questioned as he fell into step beside her, taking her mind off the chill in the air.

He said nothing for a few moments as she carried the box and they walked beside each other on the sidewalk. Demetri seemed to be calculating how he wanted to answer that, which dropped him a few points in his honesty box on her mental list of qualities.

Okay so the list was non-existent, but she pretty much needed one to catalogue Demetri. His tale got more out of control the longer she knew him. Not for the first time she wondered why she believed everything he said; but the evidence was too substantial to be ignored. Perhaps she was naïve for believing what information he did give her, it was clear he'd been lying from the start and yet she'd been putting her trust in him since they met. There was someone unexplainable that told her he was trustworthy even if her mind could clearly see how he had not been truthful. She had always been able to depend on her instincts before Demetri. Could he possess a power to give her reason not to? Anything seemed possible at this point leaving her even more confused and the thought she could be manipulated or controlled like that upset.

"This area, it's unsafe. I can say no more."

As far a convincing half-truth went that response was a two on a scale of ten. She did her best to refrain from scoffing, making a mental note to ask him later, once they were back in the privacy of the motel room. She hoped he was being vague because of their public night time stroll. If you counted public as a motel parking lot that held a maximum of five cars and no people, aside from them, as public.

When they made it to the dumpster Della threw the box, with over half a pizza in it, into the dumpster. Once back in the room (return trips always felt shorter than the original trip) Delphia wrapped herself back up in her cozy blanket and tucked her legs under her chin once again, ready for the conversation to pick up where it had left off.

Demetri looked her over, his eyes boring into hers before he seemed to make a decision and began to speak once again, "Fictionally, vampires made a name for themselves through the methodical consumption of human blood. This is complete truth."

Understanding his meaning, Delphia silently nodded her head. She looked away from him then, fiddling with the edge of her blanket as her mind ran over the implications of this statement. Demetri had just backhandedly confessed that he drank human blood. A sickness settled in her stomach as she thought about how much time she'd spent in close quarters with him. How many people had he killed? Had he done so while he'd spent time with her? How often?

She knew she'd paled considerably as she struggled to maintain a balance in her thoughts and keep her dinner down. Demetri had gone silent. She looked up at him, defiantly, and asked; "How many have you killed since knowing me?"

He didn't flinch, he barely acknowledged the severity of her voice as he responded, "More than five."

Heat began to surge through her as her mind raced through his admission. More than five, he said. More than five humans had died in less than a month to keep him alive and he sat there acting as if it were no problem. As if those people and the loss of their lives meant nothing in the broader scale of his unnatural existence. More than five deaths, and yet he hadn't killed _her_ , too. She felt sick, her hand shot out from under her blanket to grip the table as the heat over took her body.

 _I must calm myself down_ , she thought. Then the strangest sensation trickled over her, like flames flecking her insides but not burning. It was soothing, the, the feeling the fire evoked, and she began to calm. She looked down at her hand where it gripped the table and gently pried her and off. The wood where her hand had been was scorched black and she gasped.

Was she a monster, too?

"Delphia—" Demetri started but stopped when she threw a scathing look at him.

"What happened to me, Demetri?" She hardened her features, pissed that he'd killed so many people to sustain his own life and terrified of what she herself has become since being acquainted with him.

He paused for a moment before responding, "I am not sure. I have suspicions and speculations but no definitive proof."

"Then what are your speculations?" she demanded her voice hard even though she was willing herself not to yell and scream suspecting that wouldn't help the flame barely present under her skin.

"I believe that Marie Laveau, the vampire and leader of the New Orleans coven, you met her on a few occasions, used her ability to awaken something that was already inside of you." He deadpanned, his expression worried. She didn't know if he was worried over her change of attitude, or for her having almost lit the table on fire.

Something that had already been inside of her? She wondered at this. Never had she felt this scorching heat or summoned fire from her body. How could it have been inside of her? The flickering fire inside her chest had calmed her, and it was continuing to do so now as she thought through the sensation. She had never felt it before today, and never melted something in her hands until three days ago in the motel.

Never burned someone alive until the other night.

"I- it couldn't have been inside of me." She spoke out loud, though it had meant to me a thought.

"My kind have discovered that there are gifted humans, though I have not met one with the power of your ability."

She looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

His eyes bore into hers, "I've never met a human, ability or none, that could kill a vampire. It makes you dangerous to my kind, and it will attract problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"I have to continue my story; you'll require the bigger picture to understand." She nodded in agreement and Demetri spoke once morebegan, "A few thousand years ago the Volturi was formed."

Della recognized the name of the organization as the one that Demetri worked for, the 'police' of their kind, tucking that kernel away.

Hhe continued without delay, "The makeup of the Volturi is simple. We have three kings, Aro, Marcus, and Caius. Their rule is law, their word absolute, decisions unchallenged. Few have come against them, and those who have died in the process or are left subservient. Under the Volturi Kings; the Volturi guard, vampires like myself, are those who dole the punishment for any who break the law."

"So, essentially what you're saying is that the Volturi really are the vampire world police?" Della inquired, eyebrows snapped together and jaw clenched in thought.

"Yes," he responded unequivocally, "Without the Volturi there would be no order in the supernatural world. Vampires would fear nothing- humans wiped out or subjugated millennia ago."

"And what those vampires in New Orleans said that night, _'one law for us and another for the Volturi,_ ' what did that mean?"

Demetri looked to the wall for a moment, away from Delphia. She knew he was contemplating how to say what he wanted as vaguely as he could, and if he did she was already of the resolve to ask him to elaborate. Della was slowly becoming tired of his ambiguous answers, she wanted the full truth. She wanted the story in its entirety with no glossing over gory details. That's what she had meant by 'no holds barred and no bullshit' that morning- his side stepping that was frustrating. As he continued not to respond, Della decided to snap him out of whatever revere he'd fallen into, nerves frayed after hearing he had killed people since knowing her and that her fire could create problems, "Hey, stop thinking about how to answer and just answer, Dem."

Seemingly chastised, Demetri switched his attention back to Della, "There have been times where a Volturi guard failed to abide by the law and was not punished as most would be."

"Ah," Della said, flecks of flame inside of her kept her at a manageable level of irritability, "so your Kings play favorites?"

Demetri did not respond to that question, instead continuing, "Those vampires, they were accusing me of a treasonous act. The punishment for which is immediate and permanent death."

Delphia pulled in a sharp breath at the revelation. Her mind raced over what the vampires had said before the attack, trying to find a reason for their accusation. Her eyes lit as she realized what he was talking about. "They – _me_? Wait, what?"

"They were under the mistaken impression that if you knew the truth, I would be able to keep you human without consequence."

Della held up her hand to stop him from speaking so she could wrap her head around this new information. Her brain whirled through all of what he'd just given her, coming to conclusions that seemed farfetched until she settled on the most likely probability. She knew that this information, the truth from Demetri, meant her life would be forever changed. But what he was implying- what he'd said meant she would die. He hadn't mentioned _that_ before getting started. He hadn't given her that ultimatum.

She didn't know if her decision to learn the truth would have been different, but she would have liked the choice. What would he do now? Clearly, the way he was speaking, he couldn't keep her human without suffering a consequence.

But- he'd said 'keep human,' which meant…

"I can't be a vampire," she glared at him as she spoke these words with as much venom as she could muster, which wasn't much, "so the only option for me now that I know the truth is death?"

Demetri was silent, his crimson eyes gazing into hers, "You can be a vampire, because your only other option would be death."

The flecks of flame erupted- a burning rage swept through her as she dropped her legs from where they had been, knees tucked under her chin. Suddenly the blanket was too hot and she threw it off, using the motion to stand as well and stumbled over the edge of her chair as she hastened to take a few steps backward. Demetri stood as well, sadness flickering across his pristine face.

"Della please, you're my mate. Allow me to-"

"To what?" she asked, "allow you to _kill_ me? Allow you to turn me into a blood drinking, ravenous _thing_ that walks the night and murders innocent people so that I can live?" Feeling the most rage she'd ever felt swell within her she drove the point further; despite the sinking feeling she got as she watched his eyes flash from sadness to hurt at her words, "I can't be your mate."

"This life is not as you make it sound, Delphia, and you said yourself we were fated-" he began.

She stopped him mid-sentence, scathing retort bubbled from her lips before she could stop it. "Fated to meet does not mean destined to be together, Demetri!"

Demetri slapped his hand, with the amount of force most people would use to slap their knee in amusement, against the wooden table. The movement splitting it in half with a definitive crack. His eyes went deep crimson, near black, a look of rage contorted his handsome features, "I've waited a thousand years for a flighty absolute mess of a human," he growled, "I could not be more challenged, more delighted, or more enthralled than I have been these past few weeks." His took a step back and breathed a sigh, his expression changing to sorrow as Della hastened to step back, away from his expression and violent action, "Mere weeks, those are but _blinks_ to one such as me, Delphia. You do not understand that meeting you has brought color into my once monotonous, grey, existence. You do not know that over a thousand years I have spent alone in this world. You do not understand that a vampire meets only _one_ mate, and that mate is eternal, while you have a choice, I do not."

Delphia was struck silent. At first, watching the table snap in half under the pressure of his hand had terrified her. The longer his monologue went the more upset she became as she realized it wasn't only her who was suffering. He was correct, she didn't understand any of those things, but did they somehow make her life less important? Clearly, her decision affected him just as much as it affected her, but did that mean she suddenly lost all capacity to make a choice over her life. It was her life; it was the only one she would get. She had the right to live it as she damn well pleased.

Was she being manipulated, though? He'd never been completely forthcoming with information, even now when he'd agreed that he would tell her the truth he'd danced around certain explanations and taken time to formulate his responses in a way he through would be best. If she was his mate, he had a poor approach to convincing her his life was worth the end of hers, and that was only if he was telling the truth about the 'mate' business at all. He could be lying, who knew what kind of sick games an immortal would play with their prey. Vampirism, the thought of it gave her chills. Never would she consent to be one of him- a cold killer, harbinger of death. Judge, Jury, and Executioner. How could she? She'd killed before; she'd had to kill again since knowing Demetri and if this was what a future with him would be like then she couldn't accept that.

"Does my view on the matter not count?" she asked in a whisper, willing the heat of her fire to recede before it erupted and became uncontrollable.

He seemed to be shaken from whatever internal dialogue he was having at her words; he took a step closer to her. Della froze at his proximity, after watching him destroy the table she was weary of his strength and speed. Her eye's gazed over the split wood before turning them back to Demetri. The heat was still simmering beneath her flesh, ready to lash out. If anything, she had a weapon against him if he tried to kill her. But could she kill him with it if necessary to save herself? Would it work over him like it did for the vampire the other night?.

She stopped that line of thought, scolding herself internally, what was she thinking? This was Demetri. Could he hurt her? Absolutely he could. There was no question in her mind of his ability to kill a human. Though, would he- her, at least? Clearly he had no reservations about killing humans but would he kill her? She eyed him warily but knew the answer; not purposefully. Her eyes met his and he seemed to take it as a sign and took another tentative step forward, eyes locked on hers. When she didn't back away he strode the rest of the way towards her and placed his freezing hands on her smoldering face.

She felt the heat slowly subside as his body temperature seeped into hers. It had a calming effect on her. The waves of heat and bubbling of molten lava receding back to a manageable level, the flecks returning to her chest.

"Delphia, your view is the only one that matters, at least to me," he assured her, tilting her head up so she would stare directly into his eyes as he continued, "though when you speak of wishing to die know that it would upset me. Losing you- it would be shattering. A loss I could not bear."

She sighed and closed her eyes as he dropped his lips to her forehead.

"You're asking a lot, too much in fact. You've known me long enough to know I wouldn't willingly choose to be a vampire. If I understood this conversation correctly; You _hurt_ people, Demetri, take their lives from them as if you were some sort of authority and that somehow gave you rights to play executioner. I'm not that person, killing makes me sick."

Closing her eyes, Della's mind flecked over the man from New York and the vampire she'd set ablaze. Those were both instances where if she hadn't she would have died. It was her life in the balance, and she could hardly tolerate herself afterwards then. Murder is murder, no matter how justified it has a way of keeping one up at night.

It was unthinkable, what he was asking.

To Demetri, it seemed the question was die, or be with him. To her it went so much deeper, this was more of a morality issue. Could she live with herself eternally if she killed an unsuspecting human every few days so that she may walk the earth? No, she couldn't.

And coming to that conclusion meant only one thing; she would have to die. The knowledge of this provoked a numbness in Della as she realized her death was imminent. She swallowed the feeling, hoping to keep herself from rising panic. Per Demetri, no one could know the truth of vampire existence. By dying she'd save the lives of those she'd have killed if she were to agree to being a vampire.

In the end, that would be enough for her. Though there was also the complication of Demetri's life. He'd said it before, in the hotel back in NOLA, the line came back so clearly now as she thought of it. _"Death is not an option for you, mia cara. You will not die, not permanently, and even as your body fails you I will rescue you. And if I should fail then I shall follow you, that is my solemn oath."_

He wouldn't let her die, he'd said. And if he somehow failed he would follow her.

She opened her eyes at looked at the floor feeling completely drained and overwhelmed. She sighed, before cautiously meeting Demetri's gaze, "Can we just, I don't know, rewind a little bit and let me wrap my head around all of this?"

Demetri nodded and stepped away from her. "Of course."

"How much time do I have before I'm forced to make a choice?" She moved to sit back down on the bed, as she did the springs popping.

"No longer than a fortnight."

Della laughed, partially in hysteria as she tried to brush away the internal panic she was feeling at having to decide so soon, "I'm American, Dem, If I wasn't such a history buff I'd ask what the hell a fortnight was."

Her joke released some of the pent-up tension that Demetri seemed to be holding and he smiled, pulling a chair away from the broken table and setting it beside the bed. He sat with his back pencil straight, exuding that regal air she knew him for and draped one leg over the other.

"You said something about it not being safe here?" Della questioned, they weren't finished, not by a long shot—but she needed to think, sift through the information she'd been given, gain more answers, and deal with her approaching expiration date.

He nodded once, the move abrupt and leaving no room for misinterpretation, "There is an ancient vampire in the area, one who has a history of ruthless unpredictability, not to mention cunning with devising stratagem."

"And that means what, exactly?"

"I cannot be sure," Demetri shrugged, "from Maria I could not know what to expect. Unfortunately, she happens to have a coven of vampires under her that are far less intelligent than she; not to mention less retrained. If one such vampire was to catch your scent, and mine . . ." Demetri drifted off leaving Della to draw her conclusion.

"We could be toast - I understand," Della paused to heave a sigh- she was stuck with him either way she spun the idea. If she ran, he would pursue. She knew his secret now. With a shaky breath, she realized they were inexplicably bound., "So . . . I guess we should go farther north?"

Demetri looked relieved, though she couldn't exactly tell why. His eyes softened as they looked at her. "That would be for the best," he began, eyes remaining soft and his deep voice ghosting over the room, as if he were trying not to frighten a small child or coax a kitten out from under a porch, "I think it wise to travel some tonight, to put distance between us and Galveston."

Della looked over at the clock on the side table, it was only a quarter past ten in the evening. If they left soon they would have more than seven hours to drive until dawn, which would put them around Texoma. *

Once they had agreed, Della jumped in the shower, thoughts on the information she had received consuming her while Demetri loaded the car and paid for the damage to the room.

On one hand, Delphia was furious for having been manipulated and put into this situation. This was not how her life was supposed to go. She was supposed to travel- preferably alone, until she died of old age or some sort of virus in a foreign third world country that modern medicine had yet to find it's way too. This was not the way her life was meant to go, yet, how often had life gone the way it was 'suppose to'.

Vampires; Demetri had brought with him a whole new danger for her. Sure, she had already known of the dangers of the world. Sickness, murder, rape, there were many. But now she had to add the supernatural to her list of traveling worries. That's before even considering her ability to somehow conjure fire from nothing. After today she was certain that vampire's- or being around a vampire, had something to do with this power manifesting.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off before pulling her clothes for the night on. Suddenly she was struck with the thought of Demetri. She'd been thinking about him all night, of course, but during her process she hadn't much considered the man _himself_ , only the beast he said he was. Only what baggage came with him.

Instead of stepping out of the bathroom she closed the lid on the toilet and sat atop it. Della banished all thoughts about vampires, and supernatural stuff, even her fire momentarily and focused on her feelings. The truth was that Demetri made her feel unlike she'd ever felt. There was a certain homeliness to him, a sense of belonging that came when she was in his presence. It was unlike how she'd felt with her mother, that unconditional love and devotion only a mother could offer was not what she received from Demetri, no. With Dem she felt. . . powerful, and powerless at the same time. She felt tremendous joy when he smiled, and yet undiluted sorrow when she hurt him.

It was a rollercoaster of emotions, anger being the worst of them. The gut wrenching, flame inducing rage that bubbled to the surface when he'd said the words 'true mates' or when he had told her the truth of her choice- that either way she would have to die, and soon. Fear gripped her, causing her to feel nauseous and tears to form, sliding down her pale cheeks. Silent sobs wracked her body—keeping herself from an outward noise so not to inform Demetri of her position.

She was to young, and to unprepared for death.

Yet still, with a touch of his frigid skin to her over heated flesh he'd banished the burn faster than it had come. His presence was soothing, his words honest-if not scant- and if she were being fair he had previously been as honest as he could without speaking the absolute truth. He had tried to keep her from the ultimatum he would have to give her.

Delphia felt utterly helpless. She didn't want to be a vampire- no.

She wanted Demetri.

But Demetri came with baggage, baggage she would have to change her entire lifestyle to accommodate. Hell, he had baggage she (and eventually many others) would have to _die_ for.

And she had fourteen days to decide.

Instead of continuing to waste time hiding in the bathroom, Della stood and tossed the wet towels into the bathtub for room service in the morning. She gathered her pile of dirty clothes and put them in her laundry bag before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom. Demetri stood near the door, looking directly at the bathroom as if he'd been trying to hear her thoughts.

They said nothing to each other as he opened the door for her and they stepped outside into the night air.

Feeling emotionally and mentally drained, Della had given Demetri permission to drive the mustang. Any reluctance vanished now that she knew he'd been driving since motor vehicles were invented. They left the motel behind and hit the highway heading north, lapsing into a tense silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Texoma = Texas/Oklahoma border and surrounding areas.  
> Beta-d by the lovely Nickaroos on FFN.


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